


What's a little death between friends?

by ImagineYourself



Series: When Boy Meets Arachnophiliac [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Play, Angry Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Cock Worship, Coming Untouched, Consent Issues, Consent is Sexy kids, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Face-Fucking, Food Kink, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, From Sex to Love, Frottage, Gratuitous Smut, Heavy Angst, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Making Up, Mild Kink, Miscommunication, Multiple Orgasms, Neither of them know how to deal with emotions, No boxes, Porn With Plot, Relationship Negotiation, Rimming, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-08 05:20:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11639733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineYourself/pseuds/ImagineYourself
Summary: Keeping things between heroes—well, a hero and an antihero—was honestly preferable to any other alternative.Mask for mask, one could say, if you'll excuse the pun.And thank god, or heaven, or who-fucking-ever, that Wade Wilson knew how to take orders. And how to fuck, how to really,really, fuck.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is officially the ~~worst~~ best thing I've ever written. This is literally half smut and the story gets kinda fucked up (like it's not _that_ bad but it's bad coming from me who writes mostly schmoopy shit). BUT there is a happy ending and everything works out because I can't deal with bad endings.
> 
> I started writing this months ago and decided that I wanted to finish it. Then it turned into a monster.
> 
> PLEASE read the tags for all warnings!

“We should have sex.”

Peter could _see_ how Wade's jaw dropped as the merc turned to him and spluttered, “Wha—?”

He shrugged. “We should have sex,” he repeated, like it was no big deal. It wasn't; or it shouldn't be. Peter had been thinking about it, more so lately than ever, and he knew that despite how easily Deadpool would joke and make flirty advances, the guy was serious with his attraction to the masked Spider-Man.

Peter also knew he could probably have his pick of the fish. MJ said it enough that he could easily find a girlfriend and Harry would back her up with stories of how many frat boys had asked him about Peter. Still, Peter wasn't exactly looking for a relationship—it had turned out _so_ well before—so in considering his options he had decided it might be plausible to make an arrangement with Deadpool, who was notoriously into him and would keep his identity should Peter ever choose to reveal it. Besides, Peter was kind of lonely.

As it was, keeping things between heroes—well, a hero and an antihero—was honestly preferable to any other alternative. _Mask for mask_ , one could say, if you'll excuse the pun.

“So?” Peter prompted, while Wade just gaped at him.

“You're being serious?” Wade asked slowly. “Actually, for real, dick in ass, serious?”

Behind his mask, Peter rolled his eyes. Nodding, he replied, “Yes, I'm propositioning you for real, right now, this is not a dream. I can pinch you if you’d like.”

Wade let out a nervous chuckle, holding up his hands and saying, “No, no. No need for pinching. I get it. It's just . . .”

“What?” Peter tilted his head. They were sitting on a rooftop, Peter crouched and Wade with his legs hanging over the edge. This was normal. They often teamed up these days. Or at least spent time together while occasionally fighting crime and occasionally fighting each other and occasionally playing video games, too.

“I wasn't really expecting you to be so forward, Spidey,” Wade told him, not unkindly.

Peter frowned. “Look, do you want to fuck me or not?”

“Have you even ever . . ?”

With a scoff, Peter said, “You wouldn't be the first guy I've had a _liaison_ with, yes.”

“Oh.” He appeared to think for a few seconds. “So, like, now? Here?”

“Yes, Wade, on a cold, gravel covered rooftop in the middle of Queens.” Peter let out a sigh. “I'd prefer a bed. Or a couch. Or even soft carpet, I'm not too picky.”

Peter could hear the strain in Wade's voice when he asked, “That so? What do I get out of this?”

“Orgasms? My ass?” Peter offered, gesturing widely with a hand. “Lord knows you've groped me enough times that I'm sure you realize it's actually as great as it looks.”

“Uh-huh.” Wade seemed to choke on it. “You really want sex with _me_ , though? Not some pretty girl you could pick up in a bar. Or some other guy you could get just as easily?”

Peter turned to him fully, shifting his footing. “Yep.” He popped the “p” as he said it. “I've thought about it. You're attracted to me, I'm attracted to you . . . we make an arrangement for mutual satisfaction?”

“That's it.”

“Well, I'd like to keep my identity intact. We're just two guys in masks after all. But yeah, you get the picture. I think we could have great sex.” Peter cocked his head, waiting for an answer.

Wade was silent for so long that Peter started to think he ought to say something else. Then, Wade turned to him and held out his hands to count off on his fingers. “Okay. We'll need to establish boundaries, you know, and kinks. And you need to be absolutely sure you want this because I'm not sure you know exactly what you're getting into.”

Peter frowned again. “This is about your skin, right? Look, I've seen your face once or twice and it doesn't bother me.”

“It's not just my face, baby boy. It's the whole package—”

“I know. I'm not asking you to get naked, okay? Unless you want to. You can keep on whatever makes you comfortable. It'd be nice to kiss you, though. I mean, if you're okay with that,” Peter added, glad that Wade couldn't see the blush he was hiding beneath his mask. Talking about sex was one thing, but kissing Wade? It seemed so harmless, so mundane, yet it made Peter's heart speed up with anticipation and his gut coil with nervous energy.

“ _Hell_ yeah.” The breathy force of the words, quiet in the slowly receding space between them, made Peter swallow thickly.

This was real. This was going to happen. He had actually propositioned Wade for sex and it had worked and one of Wade's hands was tugging on his own mask so Peter reached up and rolled his own to his nose.

They crashed together before Peter knew it. A gloved hand was around the back of Peter's neck, holding him as chapped lips parted so their tongues could meet in a slick slide that had the hero clutching at Wade's shoulders. He fell forward on his knees, balanced precariously and his muscles straining. But he didn't want to move away, not even for a second.

Wade's teeth caught his bottom lip and he sucked on it. In retaliation, Peter all but attacked him with a brutally hard kiss, their teeth knocking together until Wade's head tilted to the other side and he forced Peter to slow the pace.

Breathing a bit harsher than usual, Peter broke away, his spit slick lips pressing sweet little kisses to Wade's between smiles and their dual huffs of low laughter.

“Something funny?” Wade asked, not without some amusement.

“I like kissing you,” Peter told him in a whisper. He hadn't realized just how much he missed kissing, really, but Wade was also a really fucking good kisser. That helped.

The merc grinned and Peter could feel it. “Well, that's good to know.”

Peter couldn't help the chuckle he felt bubbling in his chest. He was feeling pretty good, happy with the alighting of his nerves, and he backed away to look at Wade's pink lips. This felt . . . different. A good different, but unlike what Peter was used to. They had just crossed one line in their friendship and he really wanted to cross a few more before the night was over.

He distantly hoped that things wouldn't become awkward between them because of this, but he thought it would probably be okay. They were adults. They could talk about things. Right?

Speaking of talking, Peter asked in a low voice, “What do you say we get out of here?”

“I'm definitely, absolutely okay with that.” Wade's lips were stretched over his teeth until he pulled his mask back down and got to his feet, holding out a hand for Peter to follow.

. . .

They barely made it through the door. Well, _window_ and then door.

On one hand, it was stupid that Wade's place was on the top floor. But it also meant there were less neighbors around. Peter wanted to keep it secret as much as he could that Spider-Man was friends with Deadpool. Not that people knew where Deadpool lived. Probably.

God, Peter was thinking way too much.

He shut his brain off and all but jumped into Wade's arms as the merc pushed the door closed with his foot. They met in a kiss as brutal and hot as Peter wanted, no, craved. Fuck that was pathetic, he'd been making out with the guy for like five minutes. But _fuck_ that was Wade's tongue and Wade's teeth and Wade sucking Peter's bottom lip and biting so hard that it might have hurt more than a little but Peter outright moaned.

Peter just about threw Wade to the floor, clinging on to him and grinding down when broad hands clasped around his hips.

“Baby boy!” Wade exclaimed, grinning like an asshole. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to kill me.”

Cocking his head to the side, Peter regarded his mask carefully, pursing his lips in thought. “If you mean something more like fuck you to death that would be pretty accurate, actually.”

“You sure know how to get into a man's pants.”

“My technique is a little rusty, but I'm glad to hear it's working.” Peter was smiling, still feeling light and now hard as hell. Of course Wade would make sex fun, everything he did was a game. And Peter was so ready to be played with.

“Ooh, you were right, Spidey,” Wade groaned, his gloved hands taking two handfuls of Peter's ass and squeezing.

Peter jerked his hips, trying to get some kind of friction going though there were several layers of clothing between them. “You gonna fuck me?” Peter asked, his voice a hoarse whisper in Wade's ear. “Wanna get your big cock in my tight ass?”

“ _Shit_ ,” Wade grunted. “God, fuck, yeah I do. You want me so bad, don't you? Want me to fill you up with my fingers and my cock and make you feel so fuckin' good.”

With a moan, Peter crushed their mouths together again. He wasn't really expecting _this,_ but then again, he was only pleasantly surprised to find that Wade liked dirty talk, too. Just how many kinks could he explore with Wade as his partner?

Yeah, this was gonna be good.

“You gonna move this along or what?” Peter asked, panting a little.

Wade didn't answer but to pick the smaller man up and deposit him on the nearby couch, their two bodies barely fitting on top of each other. From somewhere on his belt, Wade produced a packet of lube before he tossed the belt on the floor like he was mad at it.

“Hold this,” Wade said, shoving the lube near Peter's mouth until he took hold of it with his teeth. Peter made a confused noise but he could see Wade tearing off his gloves and throwing them to the floor as well.

Peter was so hard that when his dick twitched, he felt a hairpin away from coming already and he didn't even have his pants down. The lube packet fell from his teeth to the cushion below his head. As if reading his mind or perhaps just knowing what absolutely needed to happen next, Wade's hands found the break in Peter's suit and tugged the spandex down to his knees, Peter lifting his hips to help the process along.

When his cock was freed, Peter bit his lip, trying to gauge some sort of reaction from the merc. Wade just moaned softly, slowly moving his hands towards Peter's dripping length.

“Fuck. I wanna suck your dick,” Wade said breathlessly, giving Peter a hot jolt that settled in his stomach.

Without waiting for any kind of approval or permission, Wade wrapped fingers around him. His tongue ran along Peter's skin to the head of his cock. Peter gasped and choked, throwing his head back as Wade's mouth took him right in.

“Fuck, fuck, Wade,” Peter cried. His hands were wrapped around the back of Wade's head and he brought his knees up as much as he could, pressing into Wade's sides. It was so overwhelming that Peter's head grew suddenly light, all of the blood in his body moving to fill up his cock even more.

Peter had had a blow job before. More than one or two, actually. But absolutely nothing had prepared him for the utter annihilation of his self-control as soon as Wade started working him. He couldn't do anything, could barely move past jerking his hips up to get further into Wade's throat every time the merc's head bobbed down. He had no idea what nonsense he was blabbering about as Wade was sucking his insides out from the tip of his cock.

“Oh god, oh god,” Peter sobbed. “I—Wade—I'm gonna come,” he tried to say, in warning more than anything. But Wade didn't stop; in fact, he worked harder. Seconds later Peter let out a long, almost endless whine as his body tensed up completely. He was nearly crushing Wade's head between his thighs but he didn't let up until he felt like he had come more than he ever had in his fucking life.

“That was fast,” Wade had the audacity to say as Peter was breathing heavily, his heartbeat going wild in his ears.

“Fuck . . . you,” Peter managed, but there was no heat behind the words.

Wade just chuckled, moving up to kiss along Peter's throat. “Maybe later, baby boy. Right now I really wanna get in that sweet ass of yours.”

The thought of even getting hard again was so far out of Peter's mind that he didn't answer, content to lay back and let Wade do whatever the hell he wanted. That blow job was worth _everything_ Wade wanted.

Wade must have ripped the lube open because Peter could feel a couple of cold droplets fall onto his abdomen. Then he almost forgot how to breathe when a finger started rubbing lube around his hole before pushing in gently, oh so gently. Peter hummed, too lax to care much about how it felt.

“You're so fuckin' gorgeous like this, baby boy.” Wade's voice was low and husky and Peter adored how sexy it was.

“Yeah?” he whispered. He blinked sleepily through his mask at the man loomed over him. Peter ran a hand along Wade's chest, down his strong, muscled arm. Taking hold of Wade's shoulders, he moved his fingers to rest around Wade's neck. He was smiling but that quickly changed when Wade pushed another finger into him, the merc fucking smirking as Peter gasped.

It was definitely cheating when Wade pressed hard against his prostate, rubbing over the nerves incessantly. Peter couldn't rebuke him, though, not when it felt so fucking amazing he could barely breathe.

“You look so good all fucked out. Look, you're already getting hard again, ain't that fucking sweet.” Wade was cooing the words even as he thrust his fingers hard into Peter's ass. “You're so needy, so fuckin' ready for me to get inside you and make you come again and again.”

Peter could only moan in response, his eyes shut tight.

“You're gonna take my cock so good, baby. I wanna fuck you until you can't even walk, can't even do a damn thing except lay in bed and remember how fuckin' good it was.”

“God, yeah. C'mon Wade, just fuck me already.” Peter had no idea how he sounded so coherent when his voice was absolutely wrecked. “Fuck me harder, _please_.” Maybe Peter would have felt a little shame about how he was begging if only he wasn't out of his goddamn mind. Whose idea had this been again? Nothing beat this. This was so exactly what Peter wanted and he hadn’t even been able to tell Wade what to do.

_Next time, next time,_ Peter thought, because he sure as hell wasn't letting this be a one-time thing.

Then he stopped thinking at all because Wade wasn't touching him anymore and Peter looked down. No, instead of touching him, Wade was nearly ripping his suit open to get his ridiculously engorged cock out.

“ _Fuuck_ ,” Peter drawled, tilting his head back.

Now Peter . . . Peter wasn't much of a dick man. Sure he liked it up the ass sometimes and giving head was usually pretty okay, but beyond that, he didn't love dicks. Asses? Awesome. Tits? Hell yes. Dicks? Not particularly. Except, now there was this dick. This fucking dick that Wade was trying to push inside of him. Peter already _loved_ it. He wanted to get his hands around it, his mouth, wanted to rub against it until he came all fucking over it. And it was going inside of him right fucking now. Holy shit.

“Wade, _ohmygod_ , Wade, please.” Peter's hands clawed at Wade's shoulders, hardly even remembering to check himself so he wouldn't accidentally break any bones.

Finally, after an achingly long moment during which Peter could only whimper, Wade was inside of him enough to pull back and push back in. Further and further, this cycle continued. Grunts and groans were being muffled into the side of Peter's neck. Wade's hands got some kind of purchase on Peter's thighs enough to push them up, folding Peter up like it was nothing.

And then, and then . . . Wade's voice was but a breath in Peter's ear as he said, “See what you're getting into now? I'm gonna _spoil_ you, baby boy. I'm gonna _ruin_ you for anyone else.”

Peter couldn't respond even if he had found the words because Wade pulled out and all but slammed back in, making Peter's body move an inch back on the couch. His head was right against the arm, putting his neck at an uncomfortable angle. The next thrust pushed him again. Peter found his voice enough to mutter, “Floor, Wade, floor.”

Wade didn't move fast enough though he wasn’t pulling back again yet. Peter's hands were still on Wade's shoulders so he shoved at the larger man, trying to roll them over and off the couch.

“Wha-?” Wade grunted and the momentary lapse was enough time for Peter to move them, Wade's back hitting the floor with an “ _Oof!_ ” Peter rolled again so he was now to the ground, Wade coming to rest with his hands on either side of Peter's hips, still firmly planted inside of him.

“Spidey—”

“Now, _move_ ,” Peter demanded, pulling Wade's head down while he rocked his hips.

“Fuck,” was all Wade replied. Then he was going, pushing hard into Peter's ass and making him moan so loudly it was almost a scream.

This, _this_ was more like it. Peter's head was tilted back, throat reverberating with constant little sounds. He was using the leverage he had from the floor and his grip around Wade's shoulders to meet each of Wade's thrusts, his sensitive cock brushing against his own stomach and Wade's suit.

“Shit, fuck,” Wade cursed, his voice breaking through his heavy breaths. “Feel so good, baby. Can I come in you?”

Peter was back under the feverishly hot assault to his mind and body and barely knew what he was saying when he opened his mouth. “Fuck yeah. Want your come. Faster, Wade, I'm so fucking close.”

And thank god, or heaven, or who-fucking-ever, that Wade Wilson knew how to take orders. And how to fuck, how to really, _really_ , fuck.

Wade's cock was hitting all the right places and he could not get any deeper or harder than the pace he was going at. Peter was nearing the fraying ends of his ability to keep his soul within his body, his fingers like vices around the thick muscles of Wade's biceps. He felt like he was going to come fucking buckets and without a single touch to his dick. It didn't even matter.

The sound that left Peter's throat when he finally came was not quite a scream as much as it was a wail. He had never, ever, been so vocal during sex. Never had his mind imploded and his body shaken like this.

Wade practically growled in his ear, his head dipped down over Peter's, like he was answering his cry. The simple two words of, “Baby boy,” rumbled from his chest and Peter knew, he could feel, the exact moment when Wade lost it. His come filled up Peter's insides and Peter could almost feel that, too.  He was so sensitive he could feel everything it seemed.

Letting go and resting limply on the floor was about all Peter could do as Wade shuddered above him, working out the last of his orgasm. Even smiling took effort but Peter couldn't help it.

When Wade made some kind of grumbly sound and slumped to his elbows, Peter laughed. Low and breathy, he couldn't really say why, but it felt like the right thing to do. After a few heartbeats, Wade was grinning right back at him. The merc leaned in and stole a kiss. That got Peter to lift his exhausted arms again and cup Wade's head, kissing him so lazily and feeling so fucking high whilst doing it.

“Okay, okay,” Peter mumbled after a minute. “Get off me, you're heavy.”

Wade groaned as he pushed himself back up, his dick finally sliding out along with a few dribbles of come. “Don't make that face, Spidey. I'm gonna hafta fuck you again if you keep that up.”

Peter had no idea what face he was making but he bit his lip and then schooled his expression into something more neutral. He slid himself partially from under Wade so the other man could collapse at his side with a long sigh.

“So?” Wade drawled. “How was that? Everything you were expecting? So much more? C'mon babe, gimme something.”

With a soft laugh, Peter just rested, his eyes closed. “It was okay,” he said, lips twitching as he tried to hide a smile.

“Okay? Oh baby boy, just wait until I go all out with you.” The snicker that Peter heard from his side was a little maniacal, but he couldn't deny that those words stirred up something hot inside of him.

If that was Wade holding back even a little, Peter knew he was in for one wild fucking ride.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter was going. to. die.

He knew it and there was no doubt in his mind that this would be the ruin of him. The end of his career, the end of very fucking life. And it was all, _all_ , because of Wade.

Because Wade motherflipping Wilson was somehow able to get the drop on poor, unsuspecting Peter _fuck_ ing Parker.

But wait! That wasn't the end of it. That alone wasn't the reason Peter was going to die. No, that special title, that award for the death of Peter Benjamin Parker, went to Wade's tongue when it was shoved directly up Peter's fucking ass.

And what, you ask, happened in between dear Peter getting snuck up on and subsequently getting his ass eaten like it was fine dining? Nothing, absolutely nothing. For when Wade got close enough and finally Peter realized he was there, it was far too late and the merc with the fucking _mouth_ was already pulling down his spandex and getting his face right up in there. And, mind you, they were perched, teetering ominously on the edge of a building in New York City like thirty floors high, grounded only with Peter's sticky hands holding onto concrete and Wade's grip of steel keeping Peter's hips still.

Thus, Peter, being the bright young fellow that he was, a top notch university student and superhero, found himself on the very edge of death at three in the morning on a Thursday.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Peter was whispering, over and over. He could barely breathe and tried to tug his mask up enough to let him gulp in the cold night air. His eyes were shut because looking down into the city from this height made him a little dizzy on a good day. The view was downright unsettling when Peter was getting thoroughly fucked from behind, his painfully hard cock bobbing around as he rocked and rolled on Wade's tongue.

Wade paused and Peter felt what was probably his thumb prodding around at his now spit sloppy hole. “Baby boy, you're doing so good,” Wade praised. “Why don't you touch yourself? I wanna make you come right here, fuckin' all over this goddamn city.”

Peter flushed with bright and hot blood, all the way down to his toes. He had no idea he would find that idea so appealing. Fuck, what was he becoming? It'd been two days since the consummation of their little arrangement and he was already so hot for Wade's voice, Wade telling him to come, Wade wanting him to do dirty things in dirtier places for the dirtiest reasons.

“Oh, God, Wade.” When he got his hand free from his death grip on the ledge before him, he raised it to his lips, using his teeth to pull his glove off and tossing it behind him where it wouldn't get lost. The touch of his bare fingers on his bare cock made him moan so loud and so low. Wade still hadn't pushed his tongue back to Peter's ass and the hero groaned with frustration.

“Need something?” Wade asked, the teasing bastard that he was.

“Damn it, Wade. You're so annoying.” The insult would have sounded better if Peter wasn't whimpering and gasping as he spoke. “Get your tongue back in my ass. _Now_.”

“Bossy, bossy. What about me?”

Peter could hear the stupid smirk in his voice. “Just get me off and I'll suck your dick,” he said quickly. “How about that?”

Wade laughed, loud and carefree. “Now that's a deal I can get behind! Well, I'm already behind. Behind you at least.”

“Wade!”

Before Peter could admonish him further, there was just one last laugh and then the slick sounds of that iconic tongue-in-ass music.

If Peter had thought he was ready, he was sorely mistaken. The fervor with which Wade was tasting, licking, _sucking_ him was so much more intense now than it had been at first. Tiny moans and pants were dropping from Peter's mouth like he was a fucking soundboard and he could barely focus enough to remember that he was supposed to be jerking himself off.

He came embarrassingly quickly, shooting over the edge with such force it even took him by surprise.

Wade hummed a jaunty tune as he “cleaned up” the mess he'd made of Peter. He stood to help to tug Peter's pants back up and settle his orgasm shaken body to the ground, on his knees. The look on his lips was so damn smug when Peter was finally able to look up at him.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole. You just want me to blow you,” Peter accused, feeling just a little bitter.

“Maybe yes, maybe no. You did promise to.” Wade was cradling Peter's head with one hand while his other was rubbing himself through his suit.

Peter rolled his eyes but he was smiling, too. He reached out to rest his hands on Wade's thick thighs and asked innocently, “Could you take it out for me?”

The moan Wade made was _very_ satisfying and the two of them worked quickly together to get the Deadpool suit open enough to let his cock out. It was exactly the same as it was before, when it had been deep in Peter's ass the other day. The memory make him shiver a little. Looking at it from so close now, Peter could appreciate it even more.

“Like my cock, baby boy?” Wade asked, his voice like a whisper, hesitant just a bit.

Peter didn't want Wade's head to get any bigger than it already was but he couldn't stop himself fast enough from saying, “ _Yes_.” He covered his embarrassment by wrapping his ungloved hand around the hard and veiny flesh.

Like the rest of Wade's body, his foreskin was littered with strangely textured scars and patches. But pushing back the skin let Peter see the red and swollen head of his dick, smooth and round and so fucking pretty that Peter couldn't get his tongue and lips around it fast enough. Sucking cock had never been his forte but this task, this dick, demanded all of his attention.

He sucked on the head, moving down over the shaft to fit as much as he could into his mouth, backing off whenever he needed to breathe. Wade was making these soft guttural sounds above him that did nothing but spur Peter on.

“Fuck, baby, you look so good like this. I fuckin' knew you would. Knew you'd look so hot with my cock in your mouth,” Wade was babbling.

Peter wanted, oh how he _wanted_ , for Wade to just let go. He wanted Wade's hands in his hair, tugging and pulling and fucking him until his mouth was red and abused and he could taste Wade's come in the back of his throat and he almost—fuck he almost went to take his mask off.

What an idiot. God, what an idiot he was. He couldn't just do that like it was nothing.

So he sucked Wade's dick like it was a fucking treat. Licking and teasing and fondling his balls until Wade was jerking his hips to get further down Peter's throat. And when Wade sounded like he was about to come, Peter pulled off, just far enough to stroke him through and get hot come all over his face. Some of it got into his mouth and Peter was stunned into stillness as he licked his lips and swallowed.

“Spidey, ah fuck. Baby boy that was so fucking hot.” Wade was breathing hard, his hands caressing Peter's head. For a while, they just breathed. Then Wade fell to his knees after a minute or two and kissed Peter until his lips tingled and he felt warm all over.

“I gotta,” Peter tried to say, failing when Wade just kept kissing him. Peter put his hands out, pushing away to say, “I need to get out of here. I should go home. Sleep, or something.”

“Yeah, okay,” Wade said as he nodded along, his hands gripping Peter's arms to help him stand.

Peter gathered up his discarded glove and fixed his suit to be more or less presentable. He felt Wade's eyes on him the whole time. He stood by the edge of the building, ready to jump and swing his way home, when he turned back. “I'll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah! Of course! Real soon, y'know, if you wanna. Or like later or whatever. Anytime.”

Even Peter could hear the weird cadence to Wade's voice. “Okay, well . . .”

He made to leave but Wade called out a quick, “Wait!” to make him stop.

“What's up?” Peter asked, hesitantly.

“I, uh. Well, it's just. Can I call you something other than Spidey? Like your name or something?”

Peter stiffened. He got it, he got why Wade would be asking. After all, he knew that Deadpool was Wade Wilson, and it was probably kind of weird during sex and . . . Yeah, Peter got it.

“Uh, you call me baby boy sometimes.” Peter was hedging on purpose, and both of them knew it.

Wade stayed silent, an unusual thing for him to do.

Sighing, Peter shook his head. “Next time, okay?”

Not wanting to wait for anything else, already feeling stupid and flushed and kind of gross, Peter dove. He heard some kind of noise behind him, but he was up and away in mere seconds, leaving that confusing mess for at least after he'd had a shower and some sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, there's plot here?
> 
> The answer is yes.

“Nope. Absolutely not and in no fucking universe.”

“Pete—”

“This is just sex. That's all it is. Friends with benefits. Nothing more.”

A sigh roused Peter from his haze and he looked over to see MJ shaking her head from side to side. She gazed over with pitying eyes. Peter couldn't even handle that. He resumed pacing back and forth across their study room.

They'd booked a couple of hours at the university library to study together for biochem and the simple question of, “How are you doing today?” had led to this mad disarray of Peter's notes and headspace alike.

“Okay, it's just sex. I'll give you that. But you're the one here implying that there's something more going on. That you might have _feelings_.” MJ waggled her fingers dramatically, like _feelings_ were spilling from her face.

“Ridiculous. Preposterous. I said nothing of the sort. And I'm still mad at him!”

“Okay, then maybe he's the one with feelings? Either way, Pete, I think you're in way over your head.” MJ had a point, but Peter just didn't want to believe her. Not for a second.

Peter tugged on his own hair. “I'm an adult! I can handle things!”

“Sit down already. I can feel my blood pressure rising just watching you stress out,” MJ told him tiredly.

Slumping into a chair, Peter let loose a long sigh. “Sorry,” he muttered. MJ was smiling at him coyly when he glanced up and Peter just rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Hey I'm innocent,” she argued, putting her hands up in mock surrender. “First things first, Peter . . .”

“Here we go,” Peter said under his breath.

“I'm so proud of you!” MJ's outburst was wholly unexpected and Peter just sat there with his mouth open as MJ continued talking. “I mean, first of all you like actually did it! You went for the bastard and you caught him right up. That's pretty bold for you.”

“Just what are you trying to—”

“Hey, I'm not done yet.” The fiery glint in her eyes immediately made Peter stop and stick out his bottom lip to pout. “Cute. Now, onto the real question, did you even stop to think about what this was going to do to this superhero _thing_ between the two of you?”

“Well, of course. Yeah, I thought about it.”

MJ blinked at him several times. “ _And?_ ”

“And what? I figured he would agree to fuck every once in a while and other than that things would just stay normal. I guess.” Peter hung his head by the end, groaning when he realized that MJ was right.

He really _should_ have thought about it more. Honestly, Peter had been imagining just the sex agreement for so long that he hadn't even considered things would change between he and Wade except maybe if the sex was bad or things got awkward. Even then, he had thought to himself assuredly that whatever problems might arise, they could just talk about it like calm adults. Peter was already failing at the talking part.

It had been less than a week and Peter was already regretting this.

“I mean, he agreed to my terms! But I wasn't expecting . . . _that._ I really didn't think about it going this far.” Peter crossed his arms petulantly.

The _that_ to which Peter was referring had happened just the night before, the memory still so fresh in his mind. Wade had shown up while Peter was in the middle of stopping an armed robbery and, instead of helping, he just called out to his dear, sweet Spidey how much he was going to love plowing his ass once he was finished with work.

How was Peter supposed to just let the bad guys hear that he was getting fucked by Deadpool of all people. They had _laughed_. They had stopped even trying to resist because they were having a grand time of laughing about Spider-Man's ass getting taken by some suicidal histrionic schizo (note that these weren't Peter's words but Wade's own).

Angrily, because it was totally within his rights to be angry, Peter webbed up the fuckers and shoved Wade down an alley to scold him. Angrily.

When Wade had said, “Baby boy, did I do something wrong?” it took all of Peter's control and effort as a superhero and man of the law not to snap his fucking head off. Not that Wade wouldn't just come back to life. But that was besides the point.

The point was Peter shouting, “What the hell was that? Those idiot low-lifes are gonna go spreading around that you were here and all the shit you said!”

“Oh.” For a moment, Peter had thought that Wade understood. He was proven so, so wrong when Wade then asked, “What's the harm in that?”

“What's the . . . what's the harm? Deadpool are you stupid or something?” Peter wanted to punch him in frustration.

“Hey that's uncalled for,” Wade mumbled in response. “I'm not.”

“Then why is it so hard to get through your thick skull how fucking stupid that was! I'm a hero, Wade. A hero with a reputation. I'm a masked guy that people need to _trust_ to help them in this city. What are they gonna think if they know that I have a relationship with a fucking merc for hire? Can you tell me that?” Peter was breathing heavily by the time he was finished, his face right up in Wade's.

When it seemed like Peter wouldn't get any sort of response, he turned away and backed off, feeling all at once furious and guilty. He shouldn't have shouted like that.

He was about to apologize when Wade suddenly stalked off, out of the alley. Peter followed him slowly, waiting to see if Wade might say something, _anything_ back to him. But Wade was silent. His footsteps were sure on the sidewalk as he went towards the would-be robbers. Peter thought Wade was probably going to try to intimidate them so they wouldn't talk, scare them off.

Peter did not see it coming when Wade slid his blades from the sheaths on his back and stabbed them into two of the webbed guys. The screams were like twins and the blood spatters that spurted from their bodies when Wade took his katanas back were perfectly in sync.

And so Peter stared with the widest eyes, one hand outstretched and his mouth open like he was going to call out, as Wade skewered the last man.

Slowly, Peter curled his hand into his chest, utterly floored.

Almost impassionately, he watched Wade—no, _Deadpool—_ wipe the blood from his weapons with the shirt of one of the guys and then replace them to his back. The man in that suit was like someone Peter had never met, even when he started walking back to Peter, humming softly.

When Wade stopped before him, he stuck his feet together and saluted. “I've taken care of the problem, sir.”

“Why did you . . .” Peter trailed off, not even able to finish the question. He was still grounded, body taught with apprehension.

Wade's stance relaxed and he seemed more like his usual self. “Now you don't have to worry about it, Spidey. See, it was a favor.”

“Jesus Wade,” Peter hissed. “You didn't have to do it like _that_.”

“Hey, I'll take full responsibility. Ain't nothing left for you to worry about, like I said.” In a very abrupt change, Wade asked quietly, “Are you still mad at me?” Then he added, even quieter, “I'm just tryin' to make you happy.”

Peter registered the words a little slowly, his emotional distress roaring and ebbing like the sea. “I . . . No. It's fine,” he finally said, his shoulders dropping. “Sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you like that.”

“Huh.” Peter looked up at the narrow eyes Wade was giving him through his mask.

Feeling confused and guilty all at once was a lot for Peter to handle and he couldn't read any of Wade's nonverbal cues. Truly, he was still kind of angry, but he also understood, and he felt some kind of weird pity, too. Added into the mix as well was the incredibly hot feeling in his gut at having seen Wade act so effortlessly and the fact that it was downright illegal for him to look so damn sexy while murdering people.

What the _fuck_ was wrong with him?

“Spidey you, uh, you're looking a little shaky there. You alright?” Wade's hand was suddenly on Peter's shoulder and then Peter was shoving him back into the alley behind him. Wade all but crashed into a wall, looking surprised.

But Peter had only a few words for him. So he said real low, and real soft, “Take your fucking mask off.”

Wade looked like he was about to protest until Peter took a step forward to stand right in front of him and push his hands into Wade's chest. Quickly, Wade removed his mask, the whole thing, and oh _shit_ his eyes were so pretty and wide and Peter was in fucking love—

Shoving his mask up enough to get his mouth free, Peter could not help the whine he let out as soon as he mashed their mouths together. Under him, it seemed like Wade hadn't gotten the message clear enough from that. So Peter ground his hips right into him, hard enough that Wade would definitely feel the half-chub he was sporting. That got the merc's attention.

“Fucking _hell_ , Spidey,” Wade groaned, grabbing onto Peter's ass and kissing him back.

Peter couldn't get his tongue into Wade's mouth any faster or deeper and he was making these loud, embarrassing sounds as he tried his best to crawl inside of the man in front of him.

“Can't believe—mmph—that turned you on,” Wade moaned between kisses.

Peter decided, right then, he didn't like that Wade was talking. He backed up a half-step and pushed hard on Wade's shoulders, forcing him to his knees. Hands were still on his ass, squeezing him hard but not hard enough. With an annoyed grunt, Peter shoved his spandex down just enough to pull out his cock, now mostly hard, and take it in hand.

“I'm gonna fuck your face,” he told Wade only a second before pushing himself between Wade's lips. Peter felt the fingers around his body clutch harder so he got his hands on Wade's bare head and _thrust_.

And Wade, he didn't even complain. Didn't even try to back off. Didn't even make a sound of dissent. No, he just fucking _took_ it. Swallowed down Peter's dick like it was the only thing he'd ever desired to have in his mouth and he'd let Peter do whatever the hell he wanted to. So Peter did.

Wade's eyes were closed. Peter couldn't even stand to look at him so he tilted his head back and shut his eyes, too. He could feel a tongue working against him even as he set a brutal pace. He did say he was gonna _fuck_ Wade's face. And fuck him he was. Saliva was definitely dripping down over his balls and every time he thrust forward, he got into Wade's _throat_ which was absolutely choking him.

Yet, Peter didn't feel any mercy. He felt hot, that was for sure, and he could feel his orgasm building slowly. But fuck if he wasn't taking what he wanted without giving a single shit.

Consequences? Peter didn't have those, but Wade did.

So Peter dug his fingers into the skin on Wade's head, not even able to feel it properly because of his gloves. He was _not_ going to take off a single piece of his suit, though. Wade's hands were roving over Peter's hips and thighs, sometimes moving higher as if he wanted to get Peter's nipples between his fingers. Every time he did that, though, Peter pushed into his mouth particularly harshly. Eventually it appeared that Wade got the hint and his hands stayed below the belt, so to speak.

Keeping up the pace was getting hard, Peter's thrusts getting messy as he neared his peak. Even like this, it felt so fucking good to use Wade for his own pleasure. Peter harbored some modicum of power this way and it was intoxicating.

Not to mention Wade's mouth was slick and warm and it must have been _made_ to take cock because it was so perfect.

Peter moaned and panted as he felt his orgasm hit him. He couldn't even stay upright with the force of it, curling his body forward over Wade and holding his mouth right fucking there so he was coming right down Wade's throat. A choking noise barely met Peter's ears and he let go of Wade to reach out and rest his hands along the alley wall. Wade was still licking at his head, milking Peter through each of his spasms until he started going soft.

Catching his breath, Peter finally removed himself from Wade. He tucked himself back into his suit as he noticed Wade palming his own crotch. His eyes were still shut and his mouth fucked out, lips looking red and abused.

Peter tossed a web upwards, catching on one of the tall buildings they were hiding between.

“Baby boy?” Wade asked, so preciously and quietly. Now he looked like a kicked puppy but Peter starting climbing.

“I-I'm punishing you,” Peter said, not as convincingly as he had hoped he might sound. His voice was just too soft and weak. “I don't want to see you do that again. Ever. Do you understand?”

Wade was still on his knees, staring up at him from the dank concrete ground. “Yeah. I get it.”

Peter put his mask back in place. He reached the top of the building and stood on only slightly shaky legs. Then he went running and got the fuck away as fast as he could, wanting nothing more than to pass out on his bed and put this all behind him.

He'd woken in the morning feeling even _more_ guilty and called MJ for support. Two coffees and a croissant later brought him full circle, staring moodily at the table while MJ looked at him with piercing eyes.

“This is so fucked up,” Peter admitted.

MJ nodded her head solemnly. “What are you going to do?”

Groaning, Peter fell forward to rest his forehead on the table. “I don't know. How do I even face him after this? What can I say? What is he going to say? Shit this is such a stupid thing to worry about.”

“Relationships are messy, Pete. Personally, though, I think you're allowed to be miserable about this for a little while.” MJ reached over to ruffle Peter's hair. “You have to promise me something now.”

“What?”

She was nodding her head again to herself when Peter looked up, dislodging her hand. “Promise me that you'll man up and deal with this, okay?”

“But—MJ!” Peter complained loudly.

“Don't just run away from this. The two of you both hang around this city and you won't be able to avoid him even if you tried to.”

Peter thunked his head back to the table. “I hate you when you're right.”

“I love you, too,” MJ told him, laughing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where those tags for warnings become important to read.

The butterflies Peter felt in his stomach had grown into a tumultuous nest of angry bees.

It was several days after the _incident,_ as Peter was calling it in his head. He really did not want to go face Wade after moping around MJ's place until she got so sick of him she literally pushed him out a window. Luckily, she had gotten Peter in his spider suit first.

So there Peter was, making his way towards Wade's apartment in broad daylight and in the middle of the week. He was thinking way too hard about what he was going to say when he got there but the big question on his mind was _how did things get so fucked up so fast?_

This wasn't what he'd wanted. What happened to the fun bickering and the going out for tacos and the gentle flirting as they worked together to fight crime? Now Wade had killed three people in his name and that was . . . scary.

Now he was scared to see Wade. Things probably could not have gone more wrong.

Peter got into the building with no problems and located Wade's door. He knocked quickly, his knuckles rapping against the wood.

There was no answer.

Pursing his lips, Peter entertained the idea that he might not be home. But he knocked again, just in case. When there still was no answer, he tried the handle and found the door unlocked.

Inching inside, Peter called out, “Wade?” He got further inside and shut the door quietly behind him. If Wade wasn't home, not only was Peter saved momentarily from facing the merc, but he could also take this opportunity to sneak around and check the place out.

He hadn't really had the chance to last time he was there and Peter flushed at the memory when he saw the couch. Then he narrowed his eyes.

There on the cushions was a bouquet of flowers, the blooms looking sad and limp like they were a few days old. Peter picked them up, appreciating the mixed colors of pink and yellow and white. They smelled really nice, too.

Peter set them down again as he thought he heard something further into the apartment. When he turned, he couldn't see anything right away, so he moved to investigate. The kitchen was messy but empty; the bathroom in the hall was also messy and might have had some bloodstains on the counter; what looked like it was supposed to be a bedroom was littered with books, magazines, and all sorts of weapons across a couple of rickety tables.

Finally, Peter reached the last room where the door was shut. Carefully, he opened it and peered in, seeing only darkness at first. A single beam of sunlight was shining onto the floor in the middle of the room, just to the edge of a bed.

The smell hit him before his eyes even landed on the lifeless body that lay on the floor.

Peter reared back, his first response being disgust. He knew then that he should just turn around and leave. That he shouldn't have come here at all let alone barged right in. But Peter was nothing if not a trail blazer.

He crept closer, eyes adjusting in the dark to quickly realize that the body was none other than Wade himself. There was a gun in his hand and a bullet hole through his unmasked face. The sight was more than sickening but Peter was trying to piece the clues together to figure out what the hell had happened.

The first clue was the flowers. The second Wade's dead body. The third was the blood spatter across the floor and the wall, a mix of old and new. And lastly, the gun.

The flowers. “Were those for me?” Peter whispered to himself, stepping back into the hall. The dead body. Obviously Wade had died very recently since he looked like he was barely regenerating and Peter knew how fast he could get back up in a fight. The blood patterns and the gun both told Peter that he had shot himself in the head. He'd probably done it before, too.

While he was trying to fit it all together, Peter went to sit on the couch. He picked up the bouquet again, touching the petals of the flowers tenderly. He suddenly heard the sound of ragged, pained breathing and relaxed a little, knowing that was Wade starting to come back to life.

If the flowers were for him, had Wade been planning to apologize? And if that were the case, why would he just leave them to wilt so he could go do . . . _that_.

Peter slipped his mask off so he could plant his face into his hands and let out a muffled scream. Seriously, how did this get so fucked up in so little time? If he was right about his deduction, that meant Wade was probably—god, it hurt to say— _killing himself_ over Peter. Because of what had happened. Peter felt so fucking sick he wanted to throw up.

It wasn't like Peter didn't know that Wade had issues. The guy talked to himself most of the time and could act simultaneously like a child and a cold-blooded killer. He had little self-esteem and was constantly covering up his discomfort with humor and strategic topic changes.

He'd just thought . . . maybe everything would be okay. Things wouldn't get so messy because they would be able to keep their relationship separate from everything else.

Life just didn't work like that, Peter was realizing. And Wade didn't work like that. And even Peter himself didn't work like that. Nobody could. _Nobody_ could. And Peter was an idiot to have believed anything else.

He was torn from the turmoil in his head as he heard a pained groan echo from the bedroom. Quickly he stood and went towards the sound.

From outside the door, he heard the choked words, “Fuck, not again.” Peter paused, holding his breath and not moving further yet. It sounded like he was coughing up blood, shuffling around and grunting. “This sucks.”

Peter almost stepped forward until he heard, “Need more fuckin' bullets.” He gasped, feeling like he was about to cry, then slapped a hand over his mouth. But it was too late.

“Who's there?” Wade called out, his tone gone cold. For a moment, Peter couldn't even answer. It wasn't until Wade said, “I know someone is there,” that Peter was able to drop his hand from his lips.

He stepped into the doorway, hands up, saying hastily, “Wade, it's me. It's just me.”

Wade had his gun pointed at the door but he was lowering it as Peter looked at him. “Spidey?” he whispered. “That you?”

Peter's lips were trembling seeing Wade's face still fucked up and covered in blood.  He was turned away, though, as if he were hiding. “Yeah.” Dropping his hands, he stepped forward, glad that Wade had set his gun aside. “Jesus, Wade, what the hell have you done?” he blurted. Immediately he wanted to take it back.

“Funny, baby boy.” Wade huffed like he was trying to laugh. He sat up, rubbing at his head.

“What's funny about that? I can gather enough to see you shot yourself.” Saying it out loud made it even more real and Peter felt the urge to gag again.

“Yep. Now you better scamper on home before I do it again.” He said it like he was telling a child to go home because the sun was setting and it was dinnertime.

Peter just stared at him with wide eyes.

“What are you waiting for? Get outta here,” Wade told him more harshly, waving a hand flimsily in his direction.

“ _No._ ” Peter surprised even himself with how forcefully he refused.

“Just leave me alone, kid.”

“No! I'm not gonna let you just keep doing this over and over.”

“I don't give a shit about you or what you think. Now get the fuck out.” Wade's voice had dropped low and deadly.

The back of Peter's head was tingling with uncertainty and an inkling of fear but he wasn't just about to give up. He took a step forward, stopping when the man on the floor jerked away in an aborted motion. “Wade, I just want to—”

“What?” Wade cut him off. “What the fuck do you want? Wanna hold me down and fuck me again? Wanna leave me high and dry again? Wanna watch me shoot myself just to escape for one fucking minute?”

“Wade—” Oh, god. That was why he was doing this. Peter was gonna be _sick_.

“Don't fucking talk to me like you have any idea what I've been through. I get it, I'm just a convenient warm body, and that's all you want. It's not like I haven't been used and abused before and now I can't even die and come back peacefully anymore because 'What about Spidey? What would Spidey think?' I just can't fucking deal with you always being in my goddamn head! And now it's even worse!”

Peter couldn't listen to this anymore. As soon as Wade paused to take in a fucking breath, he shouted, “Wade, look at me!” He fell to his knees, frustrated and in agony. “I don't want any of that! Just let me talk to you, _please_.”

It felt like forever was passing them by as Wade was silent. He turned around slowly to face Peter. When he finally looked up, Peter almost cried.

His eyes were bloodshot but his skin was starting to heal up nicely. That wasn't the worst part, though. No, the worst part was the look of utter shame and misery in his gaze and the set of his lips. His big brown eyes were so fucking sad and hurt it made what felt like all of Peter's organs clench up, his heart especially.

“I'm so sorry. I messed up so bad,” Peter whispered. “I'm so, so sorry.”

Peter reached out a hand carefully but Wade didn't move to push it away, letting Peter rest it along his cheek. Wade's eyes barely blinked, just staring at him.

“Tell me your name.” Wade's voice was only just audible.

“It's Peter. I'm Peter,” he answered without hesitance.

“You're really pretty, Peter,” the merc told him softly, the line of tension in his shoulders and along his body relaxing noticeably.

A little startled, Peter took his hand back. He realized with dread that he had left his mask in the other room and of course Wade could see him for all he was now. Just some dumb kid with a lot of regret. Who was also maybe blushing just a little bit.

“Listen,” Peter started, looking at his lap, “I came here to talk and I really want to have a conversation, okay? About _this_.” To express what he meant, he gestured vaguely between the two of them. “I'm so fucking sorry that I made you feel like this. I never wanted to see you this way. Wade, you're like my best friend.”

“I probably scared you real bad, huh? That you had to see me like that.” Wade was still speaking softly but Peter could feel that the danger had passed.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Peter was trying for lightness but it came out just as dark as the rest of their words. He sighed.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing. I don't know.” With a deep breath, Peter continued, “This got really fucked up really fast and I just want things to be okay again.”

Wade snorted. “And what's okay?”

“I don't know, Wade! I want to know. I want to you to talk to me and be honest with me so we can figure this shit out.” When Peter stopped, he glanced up to try and see some kind of reaction. Wade's face was all healed but he was wearing a guarded expression, just watching Peter struggle.

“Do you just wanna get out of your deal?” The question made Peter pause, his brows pulling together.

“No. Not unless you want to. And you're totally allowed to back out. I . . . don't want to force you into anything. And I'm sorry for the way I acted. I didn't think about it, and I should have. I'd like to start over.” Again, Peter looked away, shame bubbling up inside of him. MJ was so right about him, he wasn't thinking anything through. He was the one fucking things up.

“Okay.”

Peter's head shot up. “Okay?”

Wade was faintly smiling and nodded his head. “Yeah, apology accepted.”

“Just like that?”

“If I'm your best friend, then you're mine. And I wanna give that another chance.” Wade looked so sure, so unlike he did just minutes before. “Now let's get down to business. I do believe that I brought up something about boundaries at first but I kind of forgot about that.” He didn't need to say that it was most likely because they had immediately gone and fucked each other's brains out rather than finish talking.

“I did, too,” Peter said. “Let's do that.”

“Okay, first, consent is sexy, Petey.” Wade was now leaning forward, most of his previous misery having vanished.

Guilt washed over Peter but he agreed. “Definitely. And talk about things before we act.”

“Can do.”

“Next one?”

Wade tapped his chin with a finger before musing aloud, “Can we still get like tacos and hang out and stuff?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Peter told him, feeling relieved. “I really want to do that.” Peter really, really wanted that and not for this to just turn into something where sex was the end all be all. He hid a smile when Wade beamed at him. Peter sobered as he requested, “Please don't sexually harass me around bad guys.”

Solemnly, Wade nodded. “I'll learn how to hold back. But other occasions are still a go?”

Peter smothered a laugh. “Yes, Wade. I know how you are.”

“You say that as if you don't love it,” Wade muttered with a smirk.

Not bothering to correct him, Peter asked, “Is there anything else you want or don't want? I'll listen to anything you want to say so I don't fuck things up again.”

He was surprised when Wade said, “To hear how you feel. I want that. I-I'm not great at reading people and I don't know what to do unless you tell me how you, y'know, feel.” Wade took a breath. “There, now you know my deep dark weakness.”

Peter blinked a few times. “I'm not great at saying what I feel, so I'll try.”

“So, tell me Sp—Pete, what are you feeling now?” Wade was smiling so Peter knew that he wasn't in trouble and Wade just wanted to know.

“Um, kind of mixed up right now. I feel really guilty but I'm also relieved and everything else is mostly jumbled up,” Peter told him honestly. He wasn't sure if that was what Wade was looking for but it was all he had. “Will you tell me how you're feeling?” Peter tacked on hesitantly.

“Better.” When Peter laid scrutinizing eyes on him, Wade chuckled. “A lot better than when you walked in. And hungry. Wow, actually I'm really hungry.”

Unable to not grin at Wade's antics, Peter got up and held out his hand. “Wanna order Chinese?”

“Hell yeah, baby boy.” Wade took his hand, his lips stretched into a mirrored expression.

Peter then shoved Wade into the bathroom to clean up while he placed the order. Now that they weren't in the same room and Peter had a moment to collect himself, he was starting to feel nervous once again.

Would they really be able to keep up these rules? Peter knew that both he and Wade excelled in fuckery and ridiculousness. Maybe they would get caught up in all this again and things would go south and one of them would break a rule and—

Shaking his head, Peter slumped onto the couch in the living room. The bouquet was still there so he picked it up and held the flowers to his nose.

He was smiling to himself when he heard Wade say, “Those were gonna be for you but then I decided I liked them so much that I kept them.”

At that, Peter snorted and lowered them to his lap.

“Don't believe me?” Wade asked, stepping towards him. He was now dressed in a hoodie and jeans, but he at least wasn't hiding his face. “I think they fit with my style!”

“Oh for sure,” Peter laughed. He still felt kind of weird, but at least Wade seemed to be coming back to normal—normal for Wade Wilson, that is—and they were returning into their natural patterns. “Thanks, Wade. It's the thought that really counts.”

“Aw it's nothing, Petey-pie.” Wade plopped down beside him grabbing a remote to turn on his TV. “I hope Golden Girls is on,” he muttered.

“It's the middle of the afternoon so it's either that or bad soaps,” Peter pointed out. He got up, still holding the flowers, and made his way to the kitchen. There he found a suitably sized cup, filled it partway with water, and unwrapped the flowers to dunk them inside. He left the creation on the kitchen table.

“It's bad soaps,” Wade called over to him. “Eh, whatever. Get back over here.”

Peter did as he was told and as he sat back, Wade put an arm around him. “Uh, Wade?”

“Physical contact is important for relationship health and cuddling is great for bonding.” He said it like he was reciting from a manual. Peter believed him, though. And it, admittedly, was really nice to cuddle.

So Peter snuggled into his side and for a while, they simply existed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [waggles eyebrows suggestively]

Things sort of went back to normal over the next few days that passed.

They didn't fuck the night of their second beginning, but just sat around and cuddled for a few hours. They passed each other in the street the next day and stopped to have a jovial chat before Peter had to go meet MJ and Harry for class. That was all good. The only thing still in uncertainty was the sex.

Peter still felt so gross and terrible after what he'd done in the alley that he didn't really want to initiate anything. He wanted to give Wade some space in that department. Still, he couldn't deny that he really missed kissing Wade and was somehow excited to be able to do it without any masks between them, now that he'd revealed that part of himself.

Saturday night rolled around and Peter found himself at Harry’s luxury apartment, sitting on an expensive couch, and drinking fancy wine. MJ had been with them for a while but went home earlier, claiming she had work in the morning. Then it was just him and Harry and Peter was feeling quite warm and fuzzy. Harry was going on about something to do with Oscorp but Peter was content to lie back against the arm of the couch, sip his wine, and let Harry vent drunkenly to him.

“It was just so—umm—ridiculous!” Harry spluttered, making a wide gesture with his hands. Peter worried for the glass he was holding but found himself just laughing as Harry added, “If I had been there I woulda—” He broke off to hiccup.

Grinning, Peter asked, “You woulda what?”

“What?”

“You were saying something about if you were there?”

Harry blinked at him. “I have no idea what I was saying.” He giggled and Peter did, too, the two of them settling into the cushions.

It was times like these that Peter was really glad he had Harry and MJ. It was so great to just be able to relax and get drunk and talk about shit together. They were the closest friends he had! Well, other than Wade.

Huh. Thinking about Wade made Peter frown, looking down at his now empty wine glass.

Harry’s head lolled his direction as he asked, “What’s wrong, Pete?”

“Nothing.” A little startled, Peter glanced up and tried to smile reassuringly. He guessed he didn’t really succeed because now Harry was pursing his lips in thought, staring right through Peter even with drooping eyelids.

“Want another drink?” Harry was already reaching towards the bottle of wine on the coffee table, making a face when he found it empty.

Peter chuckled and set his glass down, “Nah, I’m feeling just fine.”

Nodding his head, Harry relaxed and turned towards Peter. He could tell Harry had _something_ on his mind but he was unsure what.

“What’s up?” Peter asked him, feeling concerned even in his tipsy state.

Harry shrugged and Peter thought about asking again but then his friend was leaning in towards him. He put his hands on the couch on either side of Peter’s outstretched legs. “Hey, Pete.”

“Hi, Harry,” Peter responded with a roll of his eyes and a grin. Harry usually ended up acting silly when he was wasted so this was no cause for alarm.

At least it wasn’t, until Harry crawled closer. Then Peter furrowed his brow. Harry had this look on his face that seemed a lot more sober than the way he’d been acting a few moments ago. When Peter locked eyes with him, however, he could see the haze of alcohol and sleepiness there.

“Maybe it’s time to get you to bed, buddy,” Peter said gently. It _was_ pretty late and he wanted to head out soon anyway.

“Stay with me?” Harry asked, his voice like sugar.

Peter thought about it. “Sure, it’ll be like a sleepover.” He felt a little better, knowing that was Harry’s intention. He and Harry had had many sleepovers before, and they were usually pretty fun. They were good friends, after all.

But Harry was shaking his head. “No, no,” he mumbled. Peter was going to ask him what he meant instead, but he was stopped when Harry suddenly leaned in and kissed him right on the mouth.

For a moment, Peter was so surprised he didn’t move. One of Harry’s hands curled into his hair and Peter kind of instinctually started reciprocating. Harry made a little noise like a moan, licking into Peter’s mouth. Peter liked it. He liked it a lot, actually. He’d just been thinking earlier about kissing someone and here was Harry making out with him.

Harry moved up until he was practically sitting on Peter’s lap, hands roaming his shoulders and neck and hair. _Oh._ Peter huffed a little when Harry tugged on his hair, settling his own hands around Harry’s waist.

This was . . . unexpected. Peter was feeling good, real good, but the rational part of his head was blaring a considerably loud siren. Yet, how was he expected to resist something like this? Harry was attractive, one of his best friends, and Peter was comfortable around him.

The resistance finally reared its head when Harry moved from his lips to his neck and whispered, “Stay with me,” directly before biting into him. Hard.

Peter gave a small, “Ah!” of shock and pushed at Harry’s chest. When he backed up enough, wearing a very confused and _very_ turned on expression, Peter couldn’t help but feel a thrill go through him. No, no, he had to stop this. So he quickly said, “Stop, stop. We shouldn’t do this.”

“Why not?” Harry asked, pouting.

“You’re drunk!” That was at least one of the reasons.

“I’m not _that_ drunk. Besides, you liked that, I can tell.” The smile on Harry’s face was very, very dangerous.

Peter took a steadying breath. “Yeah, but Harry, listen. I really don’t want us to do this.”

“Why not?” Harry whined, more petulantly this time. “It doesn’t have to mean anything! C’mon Pete.”

“Harry, I said no.” Peter was feeling very strange with this version of Harry. He’d never seen him quite like this before. Besides, Harry had never even shown an interest in guys. “We’ll regret it.”

Harry pushed at Peter’s chest. “You’ll do it with some other guy, but not me?” His eyes looked almost angry all of a sudden and Peter just stared at him owlishly. “Yeah, MJ told me about some guy you’ve been hooking up with. If he’s just your friend, I’m your friend, too.”

“That’s different—” Peter tried to interrupt.

“How? How is it different? I wanna fuck you, too, Peter.” Harry’s voice went all soft and Peter could tell that he was trying to act innocent.

But his seduction wasn’t going to work. Peter pushed him gently until he got Harry to sit back, ignoring the way he reached out when Peter stood. “Harry, just get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you later.” With that, he starting heading towards the door.

From behind him, Harry was saying, “No, come back! I’m sorry, Pete! Don’t go, please.”

“Sorry, Harry,” Peter said as he left the apartment.

Once outside, Peter ran a hand over his face, fucking up his hair. He sighed heavily, feeling exhausted. He was just thinking about going home to sleep this whole thing away when his stomach rumbled.

Groaning and starting the walk home, Peter contemplated where he might be able to stop and get some cheap food to settle his drunchies. There were a couple of burger places, a Chinese shop, and an IHOP nearby. Peter latched onto the idea of pancakes, sweet and fluffy. Mm, that sounded great.

The thought of pancakes inevitably led to thinking about Wade, since Peter knew how much Wade loved making pancakes. A moment later Peter was backtracking a couple of blocks and heading towards Wade’s building.

It was slow going without his web shooters, though he had to leave those behind whenever he was around Harry, who still didn’t know about Spider-Man. It was nearly midnight when Peter got there and it was midnight exactly when Peter realized he had no idea what he was doing and the merc probably wasn’t even home and _why_ did he think this was a good idea, anyway?

He knocked. Fully prepared to walk away after a minute, he was very bewildered for several seconds when the door opened.

“Petey? You all right there?”

“Huh?” Peter shook himself, blinking up at Wade’s bare face. “Oh, I’m okay. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course, make yourself right at home, baby boy,” Wade told him with a smile, stepping aside so Peter could enter.

The TV was on, some old action movie playing that Peter didn’t immediately recognize. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Peter asked, feeling self-conscious and a bit dizzy. He fell sideways onto the couch with a long exhale.

“Nope, not at all. You sure you’re okay? You don’t look it.”

Peter opened his eyes, not having realized he closed them, to look over at him. “Got kinda drunk then Harry tried to seduce me. Been a weird night.”

“Ah,” Wade said shortly. He turned away. “Tried to?” he asked a moment later.

“Yeah,” Peter told him around a yawn. “He was _really_ drunk. Said it wouldn’t mean anything since I’m already hooking up with you, no strings.”

“Uh-huh.”

Peter didn’t have the energy to figure out what Wade was trying to get across with that tone. “I told him it’s different. You and me.” He yawned again, the exhaustion he felt earlier hitting him really fucking hard. “You’re different. It’s special.” At that point, Peter was just mumbling, completely nonsensical.

He thought he might have heard Wade repeat, “Special?”

He had no idea if Wade really responded because he passed out right there on the couch. The entire reason he had gone to Wade’s was out the window and it didn’t even matter because Peter slept like a _log_.

He didn’t dream.

Or if he did, it was probably about punching triple J or pancakes.

Wakefulness came slowly in the morning. Peter was content to burrow into his sheets and turn away from the sun, hoping the headache he had would fade by the time he actually got up.

Sheets. The sun was coming from the wrong direction. What had he done last night . . ?

Peter bolted upright, looking around the empty room. He was in a bed, but it wasn’t his own, and he recognized it as Wade’s. Moving to get out of the bed, Peter found that he wasn’t wearing his shoes or his jeans or his jacket that he’d had last night.

He blushed. Wade must have undressed him and put him to bed after he conked out in the living room.

There was music coming from the hallway so Peter crept that way and opened the bedroom door. The music was actually coming from the kitchen, Peter found. He stepped quietly closer, noticing his missing clothes on the couch. In the kitchen was Wade. And he was _dancing_.

For a long moment Peter just stood there watching him with wide eyes. Holy shit, Wade could really move. He looked like an idiot, wearing an apron over his shirt and with mismatched socks on his feet.

But Peter couldn’t deny that the sway of Wade’s hips was downright criminal.

It was Britney Spears playing softly and Wade was humming along, standing at the stove and cooking something. It smelled like pancakes. Peter grinned widely before deciding to make his presence known.

“Good morning,” he called.

Wade jumped noticeably and glanced over at him. “Petey! You’re up!”

“You don’t have to stop on my account, Wade. You’re a good dancer.”

“Like my moves?” Wade chuckled and Peter meandered closer to take a seat at the table where his flowers were still sitting pretty. He watched as Wade resumed humming and wiggling around.

“I see you’re making pancakes,” Peter mused at him, resting his chin in his hand and smiling.

Throwing a wink over his shoulder, making Peter snort, Wade replied, “It’s my specialty, baby.”

“Oh I know. I came here last night because I wanted pancakes but I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

Wade’s laugh was good-natured and he went towards the table with two plates in hand, loaded with pancakes. “You really were. But it was cute.” The apron was tossed elsewhere as he sat across from Peter.

“Cute?” Peter asked indignantly. He could feel that he was turning red, though. Damn it, what was it about Wade that could annoy him and make him so happy at the same time?

“Mhmm.” Wade was already shoving syrup soaked pancakes into his mouth. “Very.”

Peter pouted when really he was trying to quench the smile that wanted to break out. He dunked a bit of pancake into syrup and when it touched his tongue he moaned. Rather than feel embarrassed about it, he wanted to see how Wade would react. Besides, his pancakes were _amazing_ , everything Peter wanted and more.

When he glanced over the table, Wade was watching him with rapt attention. Peter pointedly looked at him and then at the plate of pancakes he was abandoning. Wade shook himself and continued eating.

“These are fantastic,” Peter said. He took a few bites, chewed them normally. But as soon as Wade was focused on his own breakfast, Peter picked up the last hunk of one pancake with his fingers, dipped it in way too much syrup, and made a loud sound of pleasure as he ate it, licking his fingers clean. And, oh, he knew exactly what he was doing.

What spurred him into this, he couldn’t quite say. It was _very_ satisfying, however, to see the look in Wade’s eyes turn from surprise to want.

“Why, Peter, I didn’t know you’d like them this much.” Wade’s voice was low and Peter had a hard time trying to feign innocence.

“They’re really, very good, Wade.” Peter took another piece, dipped it, and was about to bring it to his lips when Wade caught his wrist. His eyes were right on Peter’s as he leaned forward and ate the treat right from Peter’s fingers. He even had the gall to lave his tongue over Peter’s skin and smile when he let him go.

Peter was dumbfounded. He knew he was gaping but he quickly recovered to tentatively get another bite. He got to the syrup without interruption and even ate the whole thing before Wade acted again.

This time, Wade came around the table. He took Peter’s chin into his hand with a sly grin and brushed his thumb along Peter’s bottom lip. “You had a little something stuck there,” he said. Peter didn’t need to point out how flimsy of an excuse that was. Peter didn’t need to say anything at all.

Still holding his chin gently, Wade used his other hand to pick up some pancake, coated in syrup. Then he brought the morsel to Peter’s hungry mouth.

Their eyes never left each other’s as Peter accepted the offer and then licked his lips.

Wade’s gaze couldn’t get sexier just then. Pupils blown wide and watching with heated attention, unwavering.

 _Fuck_. Peter was so gone.

Slowly, Peter opened up his mouth, enough to say that he was waiting for more. Wade did not disappoint. Peter didn’t look, didn’t take his eyes away from Wade’s face even as the merc swiped up syrup onto his fingers and held them in front of Peter’s waiting tongue. Leaning in as much as he needed to, Peter took the sweet digits into his mouth and let his eyes slip shut as he cleaned them.

He heard Wade let out a shaky breath. Letting his fingers go, Peter smirked and looked up at him again. He felt heat travel along his spine and between his legs at the incredible expression Wade was wearing.

Like he was so amazed, so turned on, that he couldn’t decide what to do next.

The hand around his chin was trembling ever so slightly so Peter turned his face to press his lips to Wade’s palm. When he raised his eyes, Wade was visibly shaking, his lips parted.

Peter saved him the trouble of asking when he said, with conviction, “Yes.”

The breath that next left Wade was a groan. He pulled on Peter to get him to stand and kissed him so hard that Peter had to laugh and readjust so no noses would be broken. Wade gripped his waist and turned, bending over until Peter’s back was on the table, right between their plates. He reached up to push the flower cup out of the way just as Wade went in for another kiss.

“Can I—” Wade pulled away, and they met eyes again. “I wanna see you eat from my hand.”

Peter was nodding his head. “Yeah, yes. I’m so fucking hard I wanna get off like this.”

“Oh, yeah.” They mouthed and tongued at each other for a moment before Wade raised himself up. He had one hand beside Peter’s head on the table and Peter wrapped his legs around Wade’s hips, making it so they were just barely pressing against each other. Both of them moaned and then laughed.

Peter had to stop laughing when Wade was holding another piece of pancake by his lips. Obediently, he opened his mouth and ate it, humming with his eyes closed. He then waited for the next offering and didn’t have to wait long until Wade’s fingertips brushed his tongue, tasting of syrup. He took the opportunity to not only thank God but also Jesus and sucked on Wade’s fingers.

For his efforts he received a low groan and lips at his neck, planting kisses there. Peter rolled his hips, his clothed dick pushing just enough against Wade’s abdomen to tease.

Wade fed him another bite and this time Peter had his eyes only half-closed, loving the desperate look on the face above him. After that, it seemed like Wade was satisfied enough because he smashed his mouth to Peter’s, threading his hand into his hair and scrunching it between his fingers.

“You can pull, if you want,” Peter told him breathlessly. His hands were around Wade’s back, clawing at him, while he was pushing his groin up and trying to meet Wade’s unsteadily moving hips.

With a groan, Wade tugged on Peter’s hair, making him whine. He cupped the back of Peter’s head, cushioning him from the table as he tilted Peter’s head back. Wade’s teeth nipped at his jaw, then his throat.

Abruptly, he made a noise like a snarl and brought his head up, prompting Peter to look at him. “You’ve got a mark from that friend of yours,” Wade said by way of explanation.

Peter raised his brows. “I guess you’ll just have to cover it up.”

The smile Wade responded with was full of dark intent and _wow_ Peter was really turned on by that. He was even more turned on when Wade went back in, teeth at the ready, and bit right over the spot Harry had the night before.

“Ah, fuck,” Peter gasped.

“Too hard?” Wade asked quietly into his ear.

“No, no. It’s fine.”

Wade’s laughter rumbled and even that was such a fucking turn on that Peter jerked his hips and moaned. “You like that, then?” Oh, now he was just taunting.

Peter bit his lip to keep from answering but Wade caught him in a new place, sucking on his skin. With a gasp, Peter told him, “Yes. Fuck. I love hickeys. Seeing them afterward.” He let out a ridiculously embarrassing sound and dug his fingers into Wade’s shoulder blades. Wade was laughing at him again, the bastard.

“I’m gonna put my mark all over you, then,” he told Peter in a voice so gravely it should have been frightening. But Peter just pulled him tighter with his legs, feeling hot all over. Hotter than before, even.

He was so close to coming. The tension was overwhelming and nobody had even touched any dicks. He was like this just from licking some fingers, a few kisses, and teeth at his throat. How in the _hell_ was Wade so fucking sexy that Peter felt like he could come from his voice alone.

Wade was licking at his neck. Peter was moaning and gasping. A hand was pushing up his shirt and pinching a nipple. Feeling like he was about to break Wade’s bones, Peter dropped his hands onto the table in fists, writhing with desperation. There wasn’t enough friction on his cock, Wade’s body just barely out of reach to rub against. Peter wanted to cry.

“Wade, _please_ ,” Peter whimpered. “I gotta come.”

He didn’t know if Wade had heard him or not but suddenly the body atop of him was moving down. Wade’s mouth was sucking on one nipple, his tongue lighting more and more fire within Peter. Peter was striving to get off against him and he got his knees to dig in around Wade’s hips and pull him down. It wasn’t working.

“You trying to get something out of me?” Wade asked, his voice lilting with humor.

“You’re doing this on purpose!” Peter hissed. He huffed with annoyance and stopped attempting to crush Wade between his thighs.

Wade was kissing his way across Peter’s chest now, humming. “You gonna come?”

“You _tease_ ,” Peter rasped, struggling to get some kind of control over his own body. It was very difficult considering Wade’s mouth and hands and fingers and _oh fucking hell_ Wade was reaching down and around to Peter’s hip, digging his fingers into skin hard enough to leave bruises and—

“ _Wade_.”

Peter had no idea how it happened or what exactly set it off but he was coming and _coming_ and holy fucking Christ, shit, what the _fuck_.

He probably screamed or made some other loud sound because Wade’s mouth was suddenly over his and muffling him. Wade’s hands were now both around his hips, holding him tight while he ground their dicks together. Wade was mumbling something to him but Peter couldn’t even tell what it was at first over the rush of blood in his ears.

Then he heard, “Baby boy, ah, baby boy,” repeated over and over against his lips.

Peter was relaxing, entering the post-orgasmic haze. Reaching up his hands, he cradled Wade’s face, kissing him slowly and sweetly and nipping his tongue as Wade came, moaning softly.

Kissing Wade, holding him close, Peter was feeling both high and heavy. He was thinking about a nap when Wade pulled back, straightening. Taking Peter with him, Peter found himself sitting upright on the edge of the table, Wade standing between his thighs. Lips were pressed against his forehead as Wade nestled him to his chest.

“Wade?” Peter’s voice was soft, shy almost.

Wade didn’t respond until more than a few heartbeats passed. “Can we just stay like this for now?” he asked timidly.

Peter slung his arms around Wade’s middle. “Okay.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here I attempt to get Deadpool to actually act like Deadpool.

MJ’s name was blinking on his phone that afternoon. Peter had just gotten out of the shower and was toweling off after returning home from Wade’s. Peter blushed just thinking about him, then shook his head.

“Hey, MJ!” Peter greeted, going for a cheery tone.

“What the hell happened last night?” she immediately demanded. “Harry is really fucking hungover, blabbering something about you leaving him and then he drank more. What’s he talking about?”

Peter slapped a hand to his face. It was just like Harry to get more fucked up instead of simply listening to Peter and going to bed. “It’s fine, MJ. We just had an argument, that’s all.”

“An argument? You guys like never fight.”

“I know, I know. It’s not a big deal, okay? I’m over it and he probably will be soon.” Peter sighed. “It doesn’t matter now.”

MJ huffed at him through the phone and Peter could almost see the frown on her face. “Fine, if you don’t want to tell me what happened I’ll just have to ask Harry when he sobers up.”

“MJ . . .” Peter whined.

“Look, he basically drank himself unconscious. It must have been important to him at least,” MJ told him gently.

Defeated, Peter took in a sharp breath and let it out. “He was trying to get me into bed, okay?”

“What? He’s the straightest guy I know.”

“Yeah. We were still drinking for a while after you left and, well, we made out for a bit but I didn’t want to do anything more.” MJ didn’t respond so Peter continued, “He said you told him about Wade and he wanted to hook up with me. He was drunk, I didn’t take him seriously. I left his place before he could make any more mistakes.”

After a silent moment, MJ said, “I’m sorry I told him about Wade.”

“It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

“I think he was serious, though, Pete. He got really fucked up.”

“Well what was I supposed to do about it? I don’t want to hook up with him. He’s my closest friend besides you and it would have messed things up, I know it.” Peter shut his eyes, taking a steadying breath and letting it go. “He’ll get over it.”

“Whatever you say, Peter.” MJ sounded resigned but Peter was relieved that she was at least dropping the issue. “How are things with wonder boy, anyway?”

Peter’s mind conjured up the feeling of being cradled in Wade’s arms like he had been all morning and he flushed. “Uh, it’s, um, good. Fine.”

“You tell him yet that you’re in love with him?”

“W-What?” Peter squealed. “I’m not! Why would I tell him that? I’m not in love with him!”

MJ laughed in his ear. “Sweetie, one of these days either you or him are going to break down and confess.”

“What? No! Wade doesn’t love me. And I don’t love him! I mean, as a friend, obviously, but not like that!” Peter would have jabbered on more if MJ hadn’t interrupted.

“Okay, Peter. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I—Yeah. See you.”

MJ hung up and Peter rubbed his hands over his face, groaning loudly. He threw his phone to his bed, heading to the closet to pull on his suit. It was time to find some criminals to beat up.

Yeah, that would take Peter’s mind off of things.

He scoured the city, on the lookout for anything that might seem out of the ordinary or illegal. An old woman had her purse stolen and Peter happily chased the guy down and returned it to her. A few drunkards outside of a bar at sundown looked like they were about to get into a fight until Peter stepped in and defused the situation.

Then there was a kid walking around nervously, hood up and hands in his pockets. He kept glancing around and Peter noticed that he was carrying a gun in one pocket.

“Hey, kid,” Peter greeted, swinging across a street and landing in front of him. The boy jumped and stared at him. “What’s going on, buddy? You’re looking a little stressed out. How old are you?”

Hiding his face in the shadow of his hood, the kid said, “Nothing’s wrong. Just goin’ home.”

Peter cocked his head. “Sure, sure. Listen, I know a thing or two about being a teenager and feeling like things were never gonna get better.” The boy surreptitiously glanced at him and Peter smiled behind his mask. “But trust me, whatever’s going on probably won’t be resolved with that gun in your pocket.”

The startled look on his face was expected. “How did you—?”

“I’m a hero, dude. It’s my job to know these things. Now, how about we sit down and talk for a while, okay?”

Peter watched as he took the gun halfway out of his pocket, looking down at it with a frown. He held it out to Peter, who took it gently and then crushed the barrel to render it useless. “Yeah, okay,” he boy said.

Sitting on the curb right there, Peter patted the space next to him. “What’s your name?”

“Mal.”

“I’m Spider-Man. Nice to meet you, Mal.” Peter held his hand out and was pleased when Mal sat beside him and shook it. “Wanna tell me what’s on your mind? You don’t have to. We can sit here quietly if you just want to do that.”

Mal nodded and clasped his hands between his thighs. “It’s my grandma. She’s real sick but we can’t get any more meds.”

Peter was looking at his profile, waiting patiently.

“I dunno . . . I just thought, maybe if I got some money I could help. Y’know?” He dropped his head dejectedly.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Peter told him gently. “You know this isn’t the way to do it, though.”

With a sign, Mal shook his head. “It seemed real easy.”

“But it’s not.”

“But it’s not,” the kid agreed. “I—I’m real glad you found me, man.”

Peter reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve been where you are, Mal.”

“No way.” Mal glanced over at him with disbelief. “You’re like a hero.”

“I was a kid once, too.” Peter laughed softly. “Money was tight, I was too young to really help much. Before I became this awesome superhero before you, I did some bad things.”

“What happened?” Mal asked, his eyes big.

“I got my act together. And I won’t tell you it’s not hard, because it sure is. You seem like a good kid, and you care enough about your grandma to want to help her as much as you can. Think she’d want you to do it like this?”

Mal looked away again but he shook his head. “Nah. She’d slap me around if she knew.” He snorted a little then faced Peter with a contrite expression. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, bro,” Peter told him, patting him on the back. “The important thing is that you know now, right?” At Mal’s nod, Peter stood and said, “Now, you better get home before anyone worries about you. Why don’t you ask your grandma if there’s something only you can do for her?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I will.” The kid got up and was actually smiling. “Thanks, again.”

“Anytime. You ever need my help, I’ll be around.” With that, Peter shot a web above him and jumped up onto a nearby building. “Adios!” he called, ducking out of sight. When he deemed it safe, he poked his head out to see that the kid was actually walking again, looking a little less like the world was out to get him.

Peter still had the gun he’d confiscated so he quickly located a trash bin and fell to the sidewalk to dump the thing.

He spun around when a voice said behind him, “Nice job with that kid, Spidey.”

Relaxing when he realized it was just Wade, Peter leaned against the bin, crossing his arms. “Thanks, DP. It’s all part of the job.”

Wade chortled and sidled up to him. “Saw you sneaking around the city so I figured I’d see what you were up to. Wasn’t disappointed. Man, I wish you’d been around to tell me that shit when I was his age!”

Peter rolled his eyes and asked, “Would anything really have changed?”

“Hmm.” Wade’s fingers tapped his chin. “Nah. Can’t say that. I probably would have just developed my crush on you a little earlier in life.” The grin on his face was audible.

Turning, Peter said over his shoulder, “C’mon. Since you’re here you might as well patrol with me.”

“Aw yes! Spideypool team up once again!” Wade pumped a fist, trailing after him.

“You say that like we haven’t seen each other in weeks, Pool.”

“It’s still been too long if you ask me.” The words were spoken low, so only Peter could hear as they walked side by side down the streets.

Wade didn’t need to know that Peter was turning a furious shade of pink behind his costume. “Slow night for you or was this your plan all along?” Peter asked, barreling right past Wade’s insinuations.

“Ehh, nothing going on in my part of town. No jobs to take, no valuables to steal. I’m so bored, Spidey!”

Peter stopped and turned his head. Sure enough, that was the sound of sirens in the distance he could hear. He held out a hand to Wade and told him, “Grab on, there’s always crime to fight around here.”

Eagerly, Wade grasped his forearm and Peter shot off a web, carrying them away and towards the sounds of distress in the distance. They arrived quickly, Peter letting Wade go to roll along the sidewalk while Peter himself landed by the cops who were shouting at each other while a fire was roaring behind them.

A firetruck was pulling up when Peter asked, “What’s going on?”

Several of the cops turned to him, looking surprised, but one of them pointed at the building on fire and shouted, “Someone lit this place up! There might still be people inside, it’s got offices we can’t get to.”

Peter called over to Wade, “Hey Pooly! We might have survivors inside!” There were murmurings among the crowd about Deadpool, but Peter just jumped over their heads on his way to the burning building, fully engaging his superhero mode.

“I’ll take the bottom, you take the top,” Wade said, right with him. “Haha! I’d like that!”

There was no time to deal with _that_ at the moment so Peter shoved at Wade’s shoulder, shouted, “Let’s go,” and started climbing up the windows that were still intact.

The firefighters behind them were shouting about being careful as they started up two hoses. Peter knew they’d work top down so he broke a window a couple of stories from the top and slipped inside.

There was smoke everywhere but it wasn’t too bad if Peter kept low while he searched. Most of the offices had their lights off so he passed right over them but not without first calling out, “Hey! Anyone in here?” Nobody answered and Peter let himself feel a little relieved.

He searched all over the top floors, finding no one, before starting his descent. This part was harder since he had to keep away from the flames as much as he could. Still, he was coughing with all the smoke. Peter kept calling out, in case anyone answered, but he couldn’t find a single person. This was a good sign.

Finally an “Over here!” caught his attention.

Peter rushed towards the shout and nearly screamed upon seeing the back of the Deadpool suit. Yet, there was Wade, holding out one arm while he was curled around an unconscious woman, protecting her from the flames inching closer.

“Pete!” Wade called out.

“I’m here,” Peter replied, trying to get there as fast as he could without catching fire. “Is she the only one?”

“Yeah! I looked everywhere.” Then Peter was next to him, grabbing onto Wade’s arm. “No, no, take the girl!” Wade tried to argue, coughing like he was hacking up a lung.

“I can get you both out. Hold onto me.” Peter pulled Wade’s arm around his shoulders, supporting him to stand. Slowly, they made their way to the nearest window. At one point, Peter had to step forward and stamp out a bit of fire, lining their path with a few strings of webbing along the floor.

After breaking the window with his fist, Peter wrapped one end of a web around Wade’s hand. “I’ll lower you down,” he said, holding tight to his end as Wade jumped out, still holding the woman’s body protectively.

Peter let go as soon as Wade’s feet touched the ground, a firefighter already running towards him. Ducking back inside, he heard Wade’s voice call for him, but he ignored it.

He had to make sure the place was empty.

Heading back to where he found Wade, Peter went to check out the rest of the floor. The fire was still strong, making him dizzy with heat and smoke. The other offices were clear of people. Peter breathed a sigh of relief that turned to a cough.  He really needed to get out.

There was a window not too far, only blocked to him by a line of fire.

It was then that Peter smelled something weird. Taking a whiff was hard with the smoke in the air but he managed to detect that it was gas.

“ _Shit_ ,” Peter whispered, just before a huge blaze erupted to his left. The force knocked him over, sprawling over the floor. The smoke was black and heavy and Peter could barely see anymore. He got to all fours and started trying to crawl to where he thought the window was.

He had trouble getting through the blue burning flames, singeing his elbows and knees, but finally made it to the window. Peter’s head was full of dark smoke, making it impossible to get a breath of air. Punching the window took all of his strength and even then Peter collapsed on the edge, his head sticking out. He had enough sense left in him to send a web across the alley he was over and drag himself out.

It didn’t quite work, though. He fell to the ground and landed on his back with a grunt.

People were shouting in the street and after a few breaths, Peter got to his feet, supporting himself with a hand to the wall. He went toward the sounds, vision starting to clear and breathing a little bit easier.

“He’s out!” someone yelled. Someone else cheered. Yet another person was coming to him, taking his arm and pulling him further from the burning building.

Finally, Peter looked up and around, seeing that another firetruck was there with more firefighters all trying to put out the flames. A few ambulances had arrived as well. Sirens and flashing lights were confusing, making Peter stagger a bit before he found his balance.

“Is everyone okay?” Peter asked hoarsely to the person holding his arm.

It turned out to be an EMT and the guy was nodding. “Thanks to you and your buddy, yeah. How are you feeling?”

“A bit dizzy,” Peter answered honestly. “I’m fine, though. Thanks.” Gently, he made the EMT let go of him. Peter’s eyes wandered around for a few moments until he located Wade, sitting off to the side of a police car.

“Hey,” Peter greeted as he went closer. Wade just grunted and Peter plopped down next to him, poorly smothering a laugh. “You okay?”

Bumping him with his elbow, Wade nodded. “Just peachy. Who knew being a hero was so fun, eh?” His tone was sarcastic but Peter could tell he was just fine.

“Thinking of changing careers?”

“Har, har, Spidey.” Wade relaxed against him, their shoulders pressing together.

“Hey, good job, by the way,” Peter told him. “Saving that woman? I’m a little proud of you, Pooly.”

With a laugh, Wade retorted, “Just a little?”

“I’m trying to say thanks, you ass.” Peter was grinning, feeling pretty good now that he was breathing clean air and had Wade’s warm body next to him.

“It’s no big ‘d’, baby boy.” The merc was chuckling, low and gravely. “Always willing to help out my little spider.”

Now Peter felt great. This was how things were supposed to be. Traversing the city, saving people, all while keeping up the familiar banter that he and Wade shared.

“Alright, c’mon DP. Time to get out of here,” Peter said, nudging at his companion.

“Do we have to?” Wade whined. Reluctantly, he was sitting up, though he was pouting as well.

Peter snickered and stood with a deep breath. He held out his hand and helped Wade to his feet before pulling him in close, their hands linked between their chests. Looking right into Wade’s eyeholes, Peter told him, “You can walk me home.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote and edited this entire chapter while listening to 'Fire Escape' by Foster The People on repeat for several hours. Just saying, if you want to listen to it on repeat while reading this, you should.

When he stepped away, he could tell Wade was a little bewildered, if the gaping mouth and stillness were anything to go by. Then Wade shuddered a bit, seeming to come out of the funk. He was quickly following after as Peter started walking away, like he was a puppy. Peter entertained the brief idea that Wade would probably be a cute puppy if he were instead a dog. He laughed inwardly.

Their walk was quiet. Peter was too tired to swing the both of them around and, besides, it was nice to just be next to each other, their arms brushing on every other step.

The silence wasn’t awkward, it felt as normal as when they would keep up conversation for hours at a time. Even though Wade usually ran his mouth a mile a minute, Peter didn’t mind either way. He was feeling calm, a little flutter of happiness in his chest, pleased that he and Wade could still share things like this.

It felt like no time at all had passed when they reached Peter’s building.

“Ooh, so this is where you live!” Wade hummed and pretended to stroke his nonexistent beard as he scoped the place out. “Seems _normal_.”

Peter had to laugh, pulling him to the side of the building, the alley with the fire escape to his window. “Something wrong with normal? I’m just a normal guy, after all.”

“Honey, my honey,” Wade sing-songed. “You’re anything but! Hmm. But. Butt! Yes, that’s good.”

Fondly, Peter shook his head. “What are you going on about now?”

“Nothing.”

“Fine, fine.” Peter waved a hand dismissively. “You gonna give me a goodnight kiss?” He might have been blushing as he asked it, but he looked right at Wade and even raised his fingers to the merc’s chest. When he pushed gently, Wade backed up into the building’s wall.

“I suddenly feel as if I’ve been transported to an 80’s rom-com, Spidey.” Wade gave a theatrical gasp as he slid his arms around Peter’s waist.

When Peter reached to push Wade’s mask up, he found a playful grin there waiting for him. Rolling his eyes, Peter got his own mask up and stood on his toes to kiss that infuriating look off of Wade’s lips.

“Mm, Petey,” Wade whispered, smiling between kisses, the absolute bastard.

Peter merely kissed him so slow and tender, arms around his neck. Their tongues slid together and teeth tugged at lips but there was no hurry, no rush. It was nothing but the two of them. Peter kind of wanted this to last forever. This pressing of their bodies, this hands around each other, this precious and saccharine meeting of mouths.

When they broke apart, Peter was breathing heavily but slow, content to just look at the work he’d done. “Do you wanna come up for a drink?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Boy, would I ever.” Wade grinned as Peter lightly hit him on the chest.

“Never mind that, I’m going alone.”

“No, no. Baby please don’t go!” The words were spoken pleadingly though Peter could see the smug look on Wade’s face. But the hands around his waist were still holding him tight even as he tried to break away. Wade dipped him back and kissed him, a laugh rumbling against Peter’s lips.

Peter relented quite quickly at that. Not that he wasn’t already planning on bringing Wade up anyway. “Fine.” He held a finger up to Wade’s lips, just to keep him from interrupting with another kiss. “ _But_ , I’m going to make coffee and we’re going to sit and be civilized people.”

Wade buried a whine into Peter’s neck, then let him go. “Okay, okay. Coffee sounds great, baby boy.”

Well, that was one problem solved. Peter still had to carry Wade up the building, enduring the man’s wandering hands until they got inside where he simply dropped Wade to the floor.

As Wade groaned and rubbed his ass petulantly, Peter tossed his mask and gloves towards his closet while moving to the kitchen. He set water to boil and gathered up the necessary items. Placing his hands on the counter, Peter took a deep breath and let it out.

What the _hell_ was he doing?

He had Wade in his apartment, muttering and puttering about, while he was going to make _coffee_ and sit down. It was almost, well, like a date.

Peter’s next breath was unsteady. God, what was this? What were they doing? That very morning they’d fucked on Wade’s kitchen fucking table and then just held each other there until they moved to the couch and still held each other and Peter had fallen asleep on top of Wade—shit.

MJ’s earlier words echoed through his head. But Peter had _just_ fixed things. He and Wade were good. Everything was okay now. What if this _thing_ MJ was talking about was real? What if that just messed them right back up again?

His eyes were shut when he felt hands on his hips, arms circling him. A solid body pressed up against his back and those were certainly lips placing kisses into his hair.

“You okay, Petey?” Wade’s voice was laced with concern, gently nuzzling him.

And right on cue was Peter’s breakdown.

He buried his face in his hands and choked on breath. A sob wracked his bones. Then another. Wade’s frame went still and turned him around by his shoulders, keeping him at arm’s length. But Peter didn’t want that.

Peter didn’t want to be at arm’s length. He wanted to be right there. He wanted to nestle himself into Wade’s body where he knew he’d be so safe and sound and nothing would hurt them if they were just bundled up together for the rest of time.

“Pete? Baby, what’s wrong?” Wade had a hand on his cheek as the words filtered into Peter’s ears.

“It’s . . . it’s nothing,” Peter mumbled, sniffling just a little.

“No it isn’t.” The hand on his face migrated to his hair and then he was being held right against Wade’s chest. “It’s okay. You can tell me anything. Or nothing. No worries. But I’m here for you, okay?”

Fuck that was so relieving to hear and it made something in Peter’s chest unfurl while something else clenched up tight. Then he was crying, his hands touching Wade as he whined. His breaths were uneven and choppy but Wade was solid. Where Peter was falling apart, Wade was right there to catch him.

How did people survive this? This—this _feeling_ was like dying slowly. Agony that was so, so bittersweet.

Peter never knew that he could love like this, but with a guy like Wade Wilson, it seemed like nothing was impossible. He brought out the strongest things that were buried deep inside Peter. The fiery anger and boiling frustration. The softest happiness and darkest anguish. The hottest arousal and sweetest touches. The greatest fondness and most genuine laughter.

He didn’t realize he was repeating Wade’s name over and over until he was on the floor, cradled in Wade’s lap. Peter tried to take in breaths so he could maybe make some coherent sentences. At least he had stopped bawling like a babe.

“Wade, I—” His voice was barely audible.

“Yeah?” Wade had still heard him, though.

So Peter tried to clear his throat and match his shaky breath to the rise and fall of Wade’s chest. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered.

Wade started petting his hair. “I ain’t going nowhere, Petey-pie.”

“No, that’s not—” Peter tried not to but he started crying again, fresh tears dripping from his chin. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Huh?” Wade sounded confused and Peter didn’t blame him. He shifted a little so Peter could look at his face more easily.

“I just—Wade.” Peter wanted to smile but his lips were trembling too much.

“I’m right here, Pete. In fact, you’re sitting on me.”

Peter’s short laugh came out more like a sob. “Idiot,” he mumbled. Through bleary eyes, he caught Wade’s gaze. Lifting a hand, he touched Wade’s cheek. Peter bit his lip, fighting his inner struggle.

Wade was looking at him with so much lo—fuck, that _was_ love in his eyes. For once, Wade’s mouth was set in a worried frown, a crease appearing between where his eyebrows would have been. He was so beautiful in that moment that there was no way Peter could ever bring himself to look away.

“I love you.”

Peter watched while the words sunk in. First he looked baffled, then maybe a little in awe, and he finally settled for disbelief.

“You what?”

Smiling so wide it almost hurt, Peter said again, stronger this time, “I love you.”

Wade reared back a bit. “So, you’re saying, just to be clear, that you,” Wade paused to frown, “ _love_ ,” he pinched his lips together, “me?”

With a wet laugh, Peter nodded. “Yes, you ass.”

“Okay. I need you say it again because I’m not sure I heard you right. Either time.”

Now Peter knew he was just joking around so he wrapped his hand around the back of Wade’s neck to pull him closer. “I. Love. You. Got it?”

Wade was obviously hiding a grin by this point. “Hm, no. I think I might get it if you say it just _one_ more time.”

To save himself from answering, Peter kissed him. Only to save himself, mind you.

Laughing, Wade kissed him back, his fingers threaded through Peter’s hair. For a long moment, that was enough. Just the two of them, sitting on the kitchen floor, kissing with a kind of desperation that Peter had never felt before.

When Wade pulled away far enough to let their foreheads rest together, eyes closed, Peter let out a long sigh of relief.

“Say it again?” Wade asked very softly.

Peter was smiling as he whispered, “I love you.”

“And you’re sure about that?”

“Yes!” Pushing on Wade’s chest, Peter managed to untangle himself and lean back.

Wade’s face was _very_ serious as he regarded Peter carefully. “You’re really sure? Not just saying that because you got my suit damp with all your crying?” He grinned when Peter smacked him lightly on the back of his head. “Okay, okay. I believe you. But really, you did get my suit wet.”

Peter made a face, not-so-secretly pleased. “Guess you’ll just have to take it off, then.”

With wide eyes, Wade stared. “Do you . . . Do you really want me to?”

Gingerly, Peter pressed a kiss to his lips. Then his cheek. And then just below his jaw. “Yes,” he simply replied. “If you want to. With me.” He tried to get some reaction out of Wade’s blank stare and frowned a little when there wasn’t one. “It’s okay if—”

“Yes.”

“Really?” Peter asked, hopeful.

Wade’s smile was soft as he said, “Yeah. With you.”

Peter felt giddy. He had just confessed and felt great about that. And now Wade was saying yes, was consenting to whatever it was they were going to do. But he’d be naked. The very thought excited Peter more than he thought it would.

He kissed Wade again, leaning into him, then asked, “Bedroom?”

Wade was humming his assent even as he was gathering Peter in his arms and making to stand. That was a little surprising but Peter didn’t mind. He really didn’t mind.

Peter liked that Wade could pick him up. He liked that Wade could hold him in his arms so they could exchange little kisses and littler giggles while they went toward his room. He especially liked when he was set onto his bed to watch while Wade started stripping.

“Those eyes of yours will be the death of me, I swear,” Wade muttered. Peter just grinned. First the boots and gloves were removed, then the suit was being undone ever so slowly.

“You can’t die yet, we’ve only just started.” Peter had a coy smile as he sat on his legs, leaning forward with his weight resting on his hands.

Wade winked while he pulled his arms out, baring his chest next. “Baby _boy_. You sure know how to talk dirty to me.”

Peter groaned as Wade started humming the tune to that damned song. Still, he couldn’t deny that he was enjoying the show, even with the choice in music. How Wade could ever think he was anything but sex on legs was beyond Peter’s comprehension. And he was quite the competent boy.

The suit went down Wade’s thighs, revealing that he was wearing just plain white briefs. Peter had to press his lips together to keep from letting out a laugh. Wade noticed.

“Oh sure, go ahead and have yourself a nice chuckle. You would not believe how much of a pain boxers are to wear under this.” Wade was kicking off the last leg, pouting. He pointed a finger when Peter let out a small bark of laughter. “You probably don’t even wear undies with that suit, huh?” he accused.

“Not usually. The spandex makes me look great, you know.” Peter was reaching out with both hands as Wade stepped from his briefs and started moving closer.

Wade was grinning, his hands on his hips as he stood just out of reach. “I know. Oh, I _know_.”

“Pervert,” Peter grumbled.

“You were the one watching with those big eyes while I revealed every precious inch of my luscious body. And look, you’re still dressed.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Peter admonished, though he was just so pleased.

This was fun. This was a game. A game that Peter was determined not to lose but to keep playing forever and ever with this stupidly incredible man.

Wade had a pointed look as he looked over Peter’s body. “Want some help?”

“Please.”

One word, that’s all it took, and Wade was pushing him over onto his back. His lips were on Peter’s, kissing him hard and deep and making Peter moan at the intensity alone. Hands went under Peter’s top, pushing it up until the kiss was broken and Peter was lifting his arms to get the offending spandex off. Wade moved back to pull his pants right off, dumping them onto the floor, boots and all. Peter pulled him in for a kiss as soon as Wade returned to him.

“Tell me what to do, baby boy. Tell me what you want.” The request was spoken into Peter’s mouth, breath shared between them, lover to lover.

Peter wanted everything, though. “Anything. Whatever you want. I want you to feel good.”

“That’s sugary sweet, Petey, but I’m already feeling good. If you know what I mean.” Wade waggled his hips and his cock rubbed against Peter’s thigh.

Looking up at him, Peter wanted to say so many things and nothing at all. He settled for smiling and telling the truth. “I want everything.”

Wade paused, his hands around Peter’s ribs as he sat back between long, slim legs. “Everything?”

Peter nodded. “Everything,” he confirmed. “All of it. All of _you_.”

A long breath was taken and let out, Wade appearing to be grounding himself. “This is real, right? I’m not hallucinating or anything? I’m not gonna wake up in the morning and you’ll be gone?”

Pushing himself to his elbows then hands, Peter caught Wade’s shoulders and sat up, too, so they were face to face. “It’s real, Wade.” He took one of Wade’s hands and brought it to his lips. He placed tiny kisses on each scarred knuckle before pressing the palm of it to his own chest, knowing Wade would be able to feel his heartbeat like this.

“Will you say it again?” Wade asked, his voice small.

Peter didn’t need to ask what he meant. “I love you.”

With closed eyes, they kissed. Peter touched the bare skin of Wade’s back, feeling hands wrap around him.

“I know what I want,” Peter whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Trust me?”

Wade met his eyes unflinchingly. “Yes.”

Peter smiled at him dopily. “Okay, lie on your stomach.”

Unquestioningly, Wade obeyed. He settled with his head in his arms while Peter sat on the backs of his thighs.

Reaching out, Peter laid his hands on Wade’s shoulders. He waited a moment for Wade to relax, then dug his fingers in a bit, rubbing them around. He used the heels of his hands to push into and squeeze at the hard muscles hiding under rough skin.

Wade hummed and sighed while Peter worked, massaging as much of the tension he could out of Wade’s shoulders. He moved lower, pressing into spine and ribs, and even down to Wade’s tailbone where there were little dimples just above his butt. When Peter used his knuckles to prod at the meat around each vertebrae, Wade moaned. It made Peter chuckle a little, under his breath, but Wade didn’t seem to mind.

Considering his job well done when a few minutes had passed, Peter moved off of him and said, “Turn over.”

Moving lethargically, Wade rolled in place and flopped back against Peter’s pillows. His eyes were shut but his lips were curled adorably. Wow, Peter never thought he’d find anything about Wade Wilson adorable.

Things change, as Peter well knew.

So Peter straddled him, sitting just below his hips so he wouldn’t feel like he was crushing anything. Besides, Wade’s cock was at half-mast against his stomach and if Peter moved just a little to the side he could make both their dicks _touch_. Yep, that was the ticket.

Wade’s smile turned to a grin as he asked cheekily, “Is that your cock or are you just happy to see me?”

Peter hummed like he had to think about it. “Both,” he finally replied.

“You’re getting bold, baby boy.”

“Since when haven’t I been bold in this relationship?” Peter punctuated the question by catching Wade’s nipples in each hand and pinching them. _That_ got Wade to shut up.

Going about continuing his work, Peter slid his hands up Wade’s chest to his shoulders, again starting there. Slowly making his way down, Peter added a little something new to the mix. His tongue followed after his fingers, licking and sucking his way along the body before him.

Wade was way more than just a body, though. He was so much more. More than anything Peter could have imagined, really.

And Peter was going to love learning every little thing about Wade and cherishing each one. Sure, sometimes Wade was a pain in the ass. Sometimes he did stupid things and dangerous things and often didn’t know when to stop being an idiot.

But Wade was also sweeter than honey and could make Peter laugh until his sides ached. He was a _survivor_ , and Peter couldn’t be more proud.

A moan interrupted Peter’s thoughts and he felt Wade’s hips jerk a little. His fingers were trailing along Wade’s sides, his mouth biting into Wade’s throat. Peter practically purred.

He got up to Wade’s mouth, open and panting and just waiting for Peter’s tongue to get right in there. And in there he got, locking their lips together and tasting each other messily. Wade’s arms were slinking around Peter’s back and his hips were gyrating just enough to make Peter whine with want.

“Ready for part two?” Peter asked, his voice nearly breaking, as he pushed himself up and away.

“There’s a part two?” Wade looked pretty fucked out already, but Peter was planning to make him look even more fucked out before this night was through.

Quickly, Peter got off the bed to retrieve lube from his desk. He sat on his knees between Wade’s legs, now spread to accommodate him. Wade was watching with lust glazed eyes. And fuck if that didn’t make Peter want to give up and just rut into him ‘til they came all over each other.

But no, Peter had a plan. He really, really wanted this plan to work.

Opening the cap on the lube, he poured some into his hand before setting the bottle aside. He rubbed the fingers of both hands together until they were all well coated and slick. When Peter glanced up, Wade wasn’t even looking but had his eyes squeezed closed in anticipation.

First, Peter nudged at Wade until he tilted his hips up so Peter could get better access to his ass. When he touched Wade with his wet fingers, he received a loud noise.

Peter almost wanted to stop, to see if this was okay, but he also trusted Wade enough to tell him when they needed to stop for any reason. He took a risk and pushed one finger slowly into Wade’s hole. Deeming the situation pacified, Peter made his next move and reached back to push into himself as well.

He had to bite his lip to keep from making an embarrassing sound. Using every bit of concentration and ambidextrous ability that he had, he moved both of his hands at once. It was way more difficult than Peter had expected to work in tandem like this. But fuck, it was _hot_.

Wade was muffling whimpers and Peter could barely take his eyes off of where Wade’s ass was taking him so well. Peter made it two fingers and Wade just kept moaning and crying out. He repeated the motion on himself, adding another finger and rocking his hips to try and get deeper. The angle was so off but it felt so fucking good. One hand was fucking himself, the other fucking Wade. It was truly an experience unlike any other.

A pained moan from Peter got Wade’s attention and he clenched around Peter’s fingers until he looked up, barely pausing his movements. “Are you fucking yourself?” Wade asked, astonished.

Peter smirked and nodded but lost it at the next thrust in. Still, he mumbled, “Good, yeah?”

“Fucking Christ.” Wade relaxed again, allowing Peter to continue. “Fingering yourself while you got your fingers in my ass, too. God, baby, that’s so fucking amazing. Bet you feel so good, finger deep in the two of us.” Wade paused to moan but then he kept talking. “You really do want it all, huh? Can’t get enough, can you, baby?”

A groan fell from Peter’s lips, unbidden. Shit.

With every ounce of effort he could give, Peter aimed at Wade’s prostate while adding another finger to himself. He needed to stretch, but he just wanted Wade to feel so fucking good. Wade rocked his hips, whining so sweetly. Peter rubbed into him as he tried to push himself harder. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer, he knew.

“Fuck, Wade,” Peter moaned. He had to rest his arms and pulled out from both asses, taking a few deep breaths.

“Baby boy, you gonna fuck me?” Wade asked, like he was trying to go for seductive, but it came out more raw and needy.

Peter shook his head. “Sit up,” he said. “I’m gonna ride you, okay?”

Wade scrambled to get into the position Peter posed him in. His legs were folded, cock jutting out, and Peter plopped right into his lap to kiss him sloppily. His legs were around Wade’s body, his feet planted against the bed for leverage. He reached between them to get some lube on Wade’s dick and lifted his hips up when he figured it was good enough.

Peter was being held up partly by Wade’s arms around him and it helped so he could sit slowly, taking Wade inch by painstaking inch. Panting by the time he was seated, Peter didn’t start moving immediately. He wrapped his fingers around Wade’s shoulders and they stared at each other for a long silent moment.

“Peter, I—”

Wade was cut off as Peter rocked his hips experimentally. He lifted up just a little and then slid down again. He felt gratified when Wade’s face went slack with pleasure. Peter did it again. Big, warm hands ran down Peter’s back to grab his ass and hips, helping him to move.

Faster and harder they rocked together. Peter wanted to watch Wade’s face but he was so overwhelmed himself that he had to tip his head back and give in to the heat in his body and trapped within his dick. He felt lips on his throat, moans reverberating through the both of them. When Wade sunk his teeth into Peter’s skin to suck at it, Peter shivered and positively _keened_.

Half of Wade’s laugh was just moans. Peter didn’t even care. He was caught in the loop of _morefuckyes_ , though he had no clue if he was saying anything out loud.

He rode Wade’s beautiful, fucking amazing cock, as he captured Wade’s mouth. They were barely kissing, just panting and occasionally sliding tongues together. Again, Peter didn’t care. He was probably crushing Wade’s shoulders with how hard he was gripping but Wade didn’t say a damn thing. He was way too busy snapping his hips up to meet Peter’s drops and keeping up an almost constant wail.

“Wade,” Peter breathed brokenly, “I love you. Fuck, I _love_ you. You’re so good. I want you so fucking much. _Wade._ ”

With a sound like a grunt, Wade bent them until he had Peter’s back to the mattress. He latched onto Peter’s neck and thrust into him. The different angle made Peter nearly cry. And maybe those were actual tears leaking from beneath his shut eyelids.

A claiming kiss stole Peter’s mouth. Pawing at the back of Wade’s neck and skull, Peter’s orgasm was blinding. It took him by storm, raging through his nerves and his muscles until there was nothing left.

Wade was fucking him so hard and so fast and he came frantically. Peter held onto him, petting his skin and shushing him as he worked through it. When he was done, when it was all over, Wade nestled his head into Peter’s neck, breathing harshly. Peter had a satisfied smile on his face. He kept touching Wade, even when he got the big man to roll onto his side.

He only stopped touching when he slid from the bed on shaking, weak legs to get a wet towel because Wade had sure made a mess of him. Peter returned and cleaned Wade off best he could until the merc reached out and grabbed him, pulling him close.

They lay face to face and Wade was silent. He hadn’t spoken much at all in the last minutes and Peter felt a bit apprehensive.

“Wade?” he tried.

“Hnn.”

“You okay?”

Wade hummed, then replied hoarsely, “Petey I think you fucked out my brain.”

The sound that Peter made was almost a laugh. He snuggled a bit closer, pushing his head under Wade’s chin. His heart started beating a little harder when Wade adjusted to hold him tightly and assuredly.

“Can I sleep over tonight?” Wade asked after a while.

Peter pressed his smile into Wade’s chest. “Please do. I’d miss you otherwise.”

“Miss me?” And there was Wade’s trademark teasing voice.

“Did I say that? I meant I’d kiss you. Goodbye that is. Send you on your way but I’m a gentleman enough to give a little goodnight peck.” Peter felt Wade’s chuckle in his chest.

“Good thing I have nothing better to do than stay here with you.”

Peter pinched him in the side, making Wade yelp and then laugh a bit louder. They settled back in quietly together. Peter felt so safe, so good. As long as he was with Wade, things would be okay. They had their differences and they had their issues but they had already proven they could talk things out and it would be alright.

It was when Peter was on the edge of sleep that he heard Wade say, “Hey, Petey. I kinda love you, too.”

“I know,” Peter whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, my true weakness is that I physically cannot end a story with anything other than gooey schmoop.


	8. Epilogue

“You know I hate you when you’re right,” Peter said as soon as MJ walked through his door.

“Hello to you, too, pumpkin.” MJ was smiling as she set her bag down and took the mug of coffee that Peter offered her. “I take it you told him?”

Peter blushed and hid behind his own mug. “I did.”

“And it all worked out?” She asked, making herself at home on the couch. “I do see those hickeys on your neck.” She sounded so smug.

About to round on her and protest, the two of them paused when Wade’s voice floated through the apartment. “Petey? Where’d you go?” the voice asked.

MJ had her brows almost to her hairline. She took a sip of her coffee and looked away from Peter, focusing on the wall though Peter just _knew_ she was smiling. So full of herself, honestly.

Peter put his mug away went to the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway just to take it all in for a brief moment.

Spread out on his bed was a naked Wade, sleepily blinking at him and smiling so fucking charmingly. Peter’s breath caught. He shook himself and went to Wade, resting a hand on his shoulder and leaning down to place a kiss on his forehead.

“Sorry, babe. I’ve got to go to class. MJ is here to pick me up.” Peter was actually very sorry, especially now that he’d seen the utterly divine view of Wade in his bed, waiting for him.

“Aw, really? Can’t you skip?” Wade made a suggestive face.

“Not today.”

“Then at least give me a kiss goodbye?”

Peter was exasperated with his lover’s innocent antics, but he gave in without a thought of denial. Wade kissed him hard at first, then softer. His tongue was worming around and trying to get Peter all riled up. It wasn’t that Peter didn’t enjoy it, not when Wade was catching his bottom lip and grating his teeth over it before letting him go. When they pulled apart, Wade’s eyes were dark.

Acting fast, Peter backed away and said, “No. I’m going to class and you’re staying here.” He flushed bright pink when he realized what he’d just said. “I mean, you don’t have to stay. You could go home or whatever. Or you could, um, stay.”

Wade stretched out on his back with a groan. “I sure do make a good little housewife. You can come home later and I’ll put on a dress and make you dinner and talk about your day.”

He said it like it was a joke but Peter _did_ want that.

“You’d look amazing in a dress,” was all Peter said. He picked up his bag from by his desk and made a hasty retreat. “See you later, Wade.”

He could hear Wade groan loudly in protest but it didn’t seem like he was going to follow. MJ was waiting in the other room, setting her mug in the sink. Sheepishly, Peter made for the door, grabbing MJ’s arm and taking her with him outside. A _very_ hasty retreat, indeed.

Peter locked the door, turned around, and came face to face with MJ’s best shit-eating grin.

“Don’t say a word,” Peter told her threateningly, even adding a little finger waggle for emphasis. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“I was just going to say that I’m glad you’re happy.” That grin was gone but only just. Peter just growled at her which made her laugh out loud. MJ put her arm around his shoulders and starting steering him down the hall. “Oh, sweet, little Peter Parker. You know I’m never letting you live this down, right?”

Peter fought a smile and tried to sound angry. “You’re as bad as May.”

MJ didn’t buy it for a second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this sorta ties things up but I'm almost thinking of writing a little followup just to work out the stuff with Harry because I know I left that very vague like I could go on with it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, have a lovely day.
> 
> EDIT: Thank you for so many comments and kudos! I was inspired from everyone's requests to write two more parts to this story. Much love!


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